


BAU Super Team

by Quinny_555



Series: Super BAU Team [1]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Aaron Hotchner has Shields, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, BAMF Team, David Rossi Can Phase, Electropath Penelope Garcia, Elemental JJ, Empath Spencer Reid, Gen, Healer Aaron Hotchner, Hurt/Comfort, Invulnerable Derek Morgan, Shapeshifter Emily Prentiss, Shapeshifting, Unsub | Unknown Subject, Villains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-04-24 07:26:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 42,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19168573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quinny_555/pseuds/Quinny_555
Summary: Superhero AU. Seven strangers all suddenly develop powers and are recruited by the government. On paper, they are the BAU, a team of profilers who study human behavior to stop serial killers. In reality, they use their powers and knowledge of human behavior to stop criminals that seem to be more than human.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I am starting a new story, as I'm sure you can tell. This is going to be a superhero AU and the team will not know each other until they get their powers. There are NO pairings. Some of the characters may seem OOC, but this is an AU and is probably intentional. All mistakes are my own, and I thank you for reading. :)

Aaron Hotchner sat in his office, rubbing his face with both hands. He was married to his job, he knew, but he never thought it would cost him the love of his life. It was ironic, he thought, that being a prosecutor would lead to him being ‘served’. He leaned back and contemplated how he had gotten into this situation. He knew he was always focused on work, but was he really that bad…? He sighed again and got back to work. Another day, another criminal to nail to the wall in court.

......

David Rossi sat at his computer, contemplating his newest book. He had no inspiration, and his publisher was pushing him to get _something_ done. As a writer, he had become very popular, very fast. Simply because he was _good._ But even the best succumb to writer's block every now and then. He sipped his scotch and tried to work past it, poisoning his hands at the keys once again.

……..

Emily Prentiss listened to her mother complain about politics (and her, of course) during their impromptu lunch date.

“I mean is it really that difficult to find a man willing to date you?” Her mother was saying, though she had tuned out a while ago.  No, it really wasn't hard to find a man who wanted to date her. She was the one avoiding them. After all, while she wasn't really lesbian, she did swing both ways and more often than not choose a woman to be with. Which, her mother didn't know, of course. None of it mattered, though, because her job at INTERPOL kept her plenty busy.  “Emily, are you listening to me?” Her mother asked, and she resisted the urge to groan.

……..

Derek Morgan stood back and brushed the sweat off his face with the back of his hand. As a detective for the Chicago PD, he had to find a way to relieve stress. He had found that renovating houses, smashing in walls, breaking windows, etc. was very therapeutic. It was not his full-time job, but he took comfort in the fact that it could be if he so wished. He took the sledgehammer, and swung it one last time, effectively bringing the wall down. He loved the fact that _he_ did that. He broke the wall, and now he could do whatever he wanted with the room. He smiled, and his phone rang. He looked and groaned. His work cut into his free time more often than not, but he helped people. And that made it all worth it.

……..

Spencer Reid sat back, letting the makeup artist do her job.

“... and a photo shoot at ten, and don't forget that lunch with…” He zoned out again. He knew he was a big name in Hollywood, but he would really rather be in a classroom right now. His manager cleared his throat. Spencer looked up at him. “You aren't listening, are you?” He asked, exasperated.

“Sorry.” He muttered. He sure didn't sound sorry. His manager continued, and as he started to zone again, Lila walked into the room. He smiled widely, standing and walking to her. They hugged, and she kissed both his cheeks.

“It has been too long.” She said, and he laughed.

“I saw you this morning!” He said between chuckles.

“Your point?” She asked. They both laughed again. “Lets go do something fun.” She suggested. His manager interrupted.

“Actually, we have a very busy schedule today, so…” He let the sentence trail off. Lila bat her lashes.

“Oh, but you would do me a favor, wouldn't you? Things are not nearly as fun without my best friend.” The man sighed begrudgingly, not wanting to make an enemy of Lila Archer. “Great!” She said, already knowing the answer. She dragged him out of the studio, walking with him to the car. “I got the geek clothes you kept asking for.” She said as they got into the car.

“Fantastic.” He said. “You are the best!” He said. She snorted.

“Of course I'm the best. Only I would pull you out of a day of photo-shoots to guest lecture at Cal Tech.” He smiled widely.

……..

Jennifer Jearue stood in her apartment, contemplating her outfit. She knew once she made it to the news station, the makeup girl would change it, so she didn't bother with makeup. She held up the grey pantsuit, then the blue skirt and matching blazer and blouse. She chooses the blue, throwing it on carefully so as not to mess up her hair, and ran out the door. Her heels clicked down the hall, and there was the shrill sound of a catcall she was now used to. Her new pervy neighbor saw her walking down the hall almost every day and catcalled her.

“C’mon baby, don't be like that!” He yelled after her. She ignored him and kept walking. He grumbled something and shut the door.

……..

Penelope Garcia sat in her ‘lair’, writing code. Dressed in all black, she thought about her boyfriend, Shane. She knew she was going to leave him soon, she hadn't found the right… opportunity. She sighed, shaking her head slightly. Her phone rang, her contact for the number ‘Shane’. She ignored it, for the time being, knowing he would call until she answered. Also, not caring. Her dark painted lips turned down at the corners. She had to admit, the idea of being alone again frightened her. But the idea of staying with him scared her even more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope you like it so far. Some of them have the jobs they had before the BAU and others have jobs that I could see them doing. The only member of the team who ever worked for the BAU before was Rossi, but he is still in retirement. The idea of Prentiss being bi wasn't really planned and came when I found out that the writers originally wrote her out as a lesbian. Anyways, just some rambling on my part. Please, R&R!


	2. Chapter 2

“That was the most boring lecture I have ever sat through!” Lila complained as she and Spencer walked down the sidewalk. “And you look totally geeky in those clothes.” 

“Really?” He asked pulling a face slightly. 

“Yeah, they are totally not flattering-” She began but was cut off by her friend. 

“Not the clothes,” he said. “I meant was the lecture really boring?” He asked. Despite the confidence he projected during his magic act, it was just that. An act. While on that misty stage, he was a confident, mysterious, talented. ‘Leo Grey, the Man Behind the Mask’ and ‘Dr. Spencer Reid’ were two very different people. One was a man who never showed his face, was graceful, who dazzled the audience and disappeared without a trace. The other was an awkward, clumsy, easy to read genius with an IQ of 187 and eidetic memory.  Lila knew this and backtracked quickly. 

“No, Spence, it was actually pretty fascinating. I've never thought to take a criminology class, but I think I would enroll if only to see you up there.” She flashed her dimples and winked. He laughed. 

“Of course you would.” He said. “Now about the clothes, they are supposed to be geeky.” He told her.

“Why?” She asked. 

“So that no one will recognize me.” He said. She snorted. 

“As if any normal person would look at you and think, ‘hey, is that Leo Grey?’” She said. 

“Better safe than sorry.” He muttered. She gave him a look. 

“I still don't understand why you go to such great lengths to keep the public from knowing who you really are.” 

“Because it's bad enough with the paparazzi taking pictures of me when I'm with you, imagine what it would be like if they found out I was really ‘the Man Behind the Mask’. Really, think about it. ‘Leo Grey actually a certified genius’. Mass chaos.” he told her, hands moving emphatically. She rolled her eyes. 

“Whatever.” She said as they reached the car. He chuckled. 

… 

“Morgan.” Derek looked up at whoever said his name. It was his partner, Elle Greenaway. A fiery, confident woman who had transferred from the Sex Crimes Division to Homicide a little over a year ago. 

“What’s up?” He asked, closing the file he had been looking over. She sat on the edge of his desk. 

“I was wondering if we had a new case come in recently.” He raised an eyebrow. 

“Trying to combat boredom?” He asked. She looked at him. 

“The files just keep coming! I need to do something constructive.” She threw her hands up. 

“You don't think that paperwork is constructive?” He asked. 

“No.” She said stubbornly. 

“You know what the Lieutenant said. Noe more cases until the paperwork is done.” He said, looking back at the file. 

“Don't try to tell me you  _ like  _ paperwork.” She said. He snorted. 

“Of course I don't. But at least I'm up to date on it.” He said, giving a charming smile. She rolled her eyes, flipping her dark hair behind her shoulder. 

“Well, I guess I better get to work on it.” Her voice was slightly sulky, and he sighed. 

“Bring me some of it.” He muttered grudgingly. She smiled brightly. 

“Thanks, Morgan!” She said, and half ran to get the paperwork, lest he change his mind last minute. 

… 

“No, Aaron, I'm done!” Haley shouted at him. 

“Couldn't we try to work this out?” He asked, watching her drop more clothes into her suitcase. 

“I'm leaving.” She said, more quietly now. He wanted to go and comfort her but knew his affection would not be wanted. 

“Why couldn't we ‘try to work it out’ when I asked?” She turned to face him. He knew he had no answer to that. “I'm sorry. I can't stay in this one-sided relationship with you.” 

“Please, just give me another chance…” But he knew it was useless. 

“No. This is just… too much. I just- I just need more.” She finished, a single tear tracing down her cheek. She wiped it away viciously. 

“More what? Time, attention, money, what?” He asked, desperately. 

“You go to work early every morning, come back at ghastly hours of the night, work six days a week! It's like living with a ghost, for God's sake! I tried. I have tried so hard to be supportive. So, so hard. But what I need? Is more than you can give me.” 

“I can!” He shouted. 

“You  _ can.  _ But you won't. No matter what you say, actions speak louder than words. And yours are screaming.” he knew she was right. But a thought suddenly struck him. 

“Is there another man?” He asked. She spun so fast her hair whipped around her face. 

“What?” She all but shrieked. But her eyes held guilt, and he knew he was right. 

“Who is he?” He growled. Her eyes hardened. 

“That is  _ none  _ of your business.” She hissed. 

“How is it not my business, who my wife is having an affair with?” Her eyes narrowed. 

“I'm not the only one who is having an affair, here.” She said. 

“I am not!” He yelled. She shook her head. 

“You have been married to this job since you got it. My point? For a very observant guy, you didn't even notice when I didn't come home all night last week.” He sighed, closing his eyes. She was right. But they both knew that nothing the other did would abolish their own mistakes. And they both felt the guilt. She picked up the suitcase and walked out the door. He didn't follow her, both simultaneously putting the final nail in the coffin of their marriage.  

… 

JJ looked over the script she had been given, studying what she had to say on the air that day. She noticed that the Man Behind the Mask was mentioned, and she was excited. She loved his show, the mystery aspect and all. Something was set in front of her, and she looked up to see one of the new interns looking nervous. She smiled. 

“Hi, uh…” She tried to remember the young blonds name. 

“Ashley,” she said. “Ashley Seaver.” She shook JJ’s hand enthusiastically. 

“Jennifer Jareau.” She greeted. 

“Wow, um, I just can't believe I'm like really talking to you. I mean, you're like a celebrity, and I'm just starting out, and I was wondering if you could give me some tips for, well, ya know…” JJ let the girl ramble for a moment, before saying, 

“Of course, I'd love to give you some pointers. When you make it big, you've gotta give some credit, though.” Her light joking paid off as she saw the girls eyes light up. 

“Y-yeah, I mean, if I do totally.” She was still nervous, but a bit more relaxed. JJ looked at her watch, and back at Ashley. 

“We need to start soon, so maybe over lunch some time…” She suggested, not wanting to shoot her down but knowing she needed to start soon. The girl smiled and nodded. 

“How about Saturday afternoon at…” 

… 

“I can't work miracles, Jane,” Rossi told his publisher, who was sitting across the desk from him. 

“I’m not asking for a miracle, Dave, I'm asking for a new book that I can publish.” She said sharply. 

“Can't you just…” He gestured with his hands and she sighed. 

“It's called supply and demand, Dave. which I'm sure you knew.” He grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like a curse under his breath. 

“You have other authors, don't you?” He asked. 

“People don't want to hear from them. They want to hear from you.” she crossed her legs, serious look never leaving her face. “I'm not joking, and you know I'm not. Or, at least, you should. You  _ are _ a profiler, for God’s sake.” Rossi nodded. 

“Yeah. Writer's block is a son of a bitch.” He muttered. She nodded. 

“That it is. But I still need the start of a book by the end of the month.” 

… 

Penelope Garcia sat at her vanity, applying her dark makeup. A strand of black hair fell in her face, and she brushed it away impatiently. Slowly spreading the dark purple lipstick across her lips, she heard her phone go off and growled. She grabbed it, knowing who was calling. 

“What?” She asked, her voice cold. 

_ “Penelope, really, do you want to do this?” _ Her ex’s voice came through the phone. 

“Yes.” She growled. 

_ “Why? We were made for each other, and you know it.”  _ He purred the words. She shook her head, though she knew he couldn't see her. 

“We were not made for each other. And I know  _ you  _ know it.” 

_ “I'm making you immortal. You will live forever with me.”  _

“No, you taking videos of me will not keep my memory alive. Because those videos are not me.” she hissed. 

_ “Our relationship is the best thing that's ever happened to you.”  _

“No-” 

_ “I have you saying so on camera. You love me, and you know it.”  _

“No, our relationship is toxic, and I'm sick of it. I  _ don't  _ love you.” She shut the disposable phone, throwing it to the side. She could feel her resolve weakening and she let a few tears fall for the fact that she did love him. Or, more accurately, she loved the man he used to be. After fixing her makeup, she grabbed her bags and walked out the door, never to return to the small apartment. 

… 

Emily Prentiss rubbed her face, hoping her makeup wouldn't smudge. She sat at the table for two in a busy French Restaurant she didn't bother to learn the name of. She saw the man who must have been her date sit across from her. Her mother set her up with yet another man she wasn't interested in. She knew his type. Rich, handsome, with political influence. The problem was, men like that almost always had terrible personalities.  

“Emily, it is so nice to finally meet you.” His eyes raked up and down her body. Yup, another one of those guys. 

“Mike,” She nodded, forcing a smile. 

“You know, Emily, you are a very attractive woman.” He said, flashing a charming smile. 

“Thank you.” She said feeling a bit awkward. He opened his mouth to say something else when the waiter came to take their orders.  _ Saved by the bell,  _ she thought. After he left, Mike turned to her again. 

“Your mother said you were looking for a serious relationship…” 

“Did she, now?” Emily asked. This was going to be a long night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so just a bit of insight into their current lives. Next chapter, things get a little strange for them.


	3. Chapter 3

Morgan and Elle knocked on the suspect's door. There was no answer.

“Mr. Hareld!” Elle shouted. “Police! We have a warrant.” There was the sound of feet running from inside. Elle nodded and Derek raised his foot. He kicked the door in, hitting it so hard it almost fell off its hinges. Morgan stumbled slightly, shocked at just _how_ hard he had hit the door. Shaking it off he ran in to see the suspect running down the fire escape. He ran after him, thinking that he was already too far to catch him. Crawling out the window, he could see the man hit the pavement running.

He went down the fire escape faster than he would have thought possible, running full speed (Which was much faster than he thought) He tackled the man before he made it to the street.

“Shit!” He said as Morgan landed on top of him. He cuffed his hands. Morgan read him his rights, standing him up. “Shit, man, you are _fast._ ” So, it wasn't just in his head. He thought about that as he all but carried the extremely resistant man to the squad car. Elle was suddenly right next to him. He jumped slightly.

“Geez, Elle, you scared the crap out of me.” He said, turning to face her.

“Morgan.” She hissed at him, his brow furrowed.

“What?” He was confused. Was that… worry on her face?

“Why the _Hell_ would you do that?” She sounded angry in an attempt to cover up the concern.

“What?” He asked again, “What did I do?” He demanded. She just stared at him.

“You jumped off the freaking fire escape!” She all but shrieked. His brow furrowed again.

“I did?” He asked.

“Don't joke around, Derek. You are lucky that you didn't break your legs.” She scolded. He was still confused. He wasn't even hurt…? Had he really jumped from the fire escape? He felt stronger and faster than usual today. Weird. He shrugged, not thinking anything of it. After all, people could do crazy things on an adrenaline rush. Right…?

…

Penelope pushed open the large door forcefully, letting light into the otherwise dark room. People sat at computers in rows, looking at her.

“Where is that son of a bitch?” She demanded at no one in particular. Shane walked out of the back room, a pleased smile on his face.

“Care to talk in my office, dear?” He asked.

“No, I don't care to talk in your office, and do not call me dear.” She snapped.

“Well, we can't talk in front of all of my clients, now can we?”

“Yes, we can,” she said. His eyes hardened.

“Talk in my office, or no talk at all.” He said. She hissed out a breath.

“Fine.” The word was all but snarled. He smiled again, gesturing for her to follow.

“Where is it?” She demanded.

“Where is what?” He asked, feigning innocence.

“ _All_ of my stuff.” She said. “You are the only person I know that would take all of my personal belongings from my apartment to get me to talk to you.” She crossed her arms.

“Look, baby, just give me another chance.” He said, his voice persuasive. “We can be as good as we once were.”

“Where is all my stuff?” She hissed again.

“Do you swear to listen if I tell you?” He asked, knowing she always kept her promises. She reluctantly nodded. “It's in my old storage locker. Code is still the same.” she nodded.

“Now, what do you want?”

“I just want you to remember how good we were. I was there for you. What changed?” He asked.

“You did.”

“I can change back!”

“No, you can't. This is who you are. You just want to… fight all the time! Everything's an argument!”

“Well, maybe if you-”

“Don't try to turn this around on me!”

“Well, it is your fault.”

“No, it's not!”

“You left me.”

“Then why are you trying so hard to get me back?”

“Because you need me, even if you don't know it.” They were both so into it, they didn't even notice the lights flicker.

“I don't need you, I never have and I never will!”

“I made you what you are!” The screens on the computers in the room began turning on and off.

“No-”

“I picked up the pieces of you after your parents died, I harnessed all that potential-” The lights blew out, light bulbs shattering with the overload of energy. The screens of every computer blanked, as the word ‘no’ blinked on and off of the screens. They both blinked in the dark, as Shane spoke again. “Woah.” Was all he said. ‘Woah’ was right.

…

Spencer woke that morning and instantly wanted to go back to sleep. It felt like he had a killer hangover when he hadn't drunk at all the night before. He stumbled out of bed and into the shower. The warm water eased the pounding in his head slightly. He got out and dressed. As he was buttoning up his navy blue shirt he paused. He felt something, like contentedness… but _he_ didn't feel it. It was like it was there like he could touch it. But… how? He followed the feeling and found his housekeeper. As he got closer to her, the feeling got stronger, something between happiness and contentedness.

“How are you this morning, Mrs. Gonzales?” He asked. The older lady spun from the food she was making.

“I'm great, thank you, Dr. Reid. How are you?” She said kindly, her Spanish accent less pronounced than it had been when he first hired her. He paid her more than enough, subconsciously feeling guilty that she did things for him that he could do himself. He also enjoyed her company and wanted her around.

“Uh, a bit of a headache, but other than that I'm fine.” He smiled.

“Do you need any-” She began, but he cut her off.

“I'm fine, don't worry about me.” He quickly interrupted, still feeling a bit awkward when anyone tried to take care of him. She muttered something along the lines of ‘I'll always worry’ under her breath as she turned back to what she was cooking.

“Breakfast will be done in about five minutes.” She said.

He made it to work, his head still pounding, about an hour later.

“Ah, there you are.” His manager said, grabbing his arm lightly. Spencer gasped as if shocked when thoughts that were not his own ran through his head. Strong emotions accompanied the thoughts, and he pulled away. The feelings and thoughts were clearly separate from his own, but it was too much. “Woah, sorry Leo, I didn't mean to-”

“It's fine, just a headache.” He said, grabbing his head. As an afterthought, he added, “And please, don't touch me.” The man seemed shocked but only nodded.

Getting home that night, Spencer had had just about enough. The headache had only gotten worse as the day wore on, too many feelings that were not his own invading his mind. Any time a person touched him, the feelings got stronger and he could hear their thoughts. He thought that he was maybe going crazy like his mother.

“No!” He said out loud to himself, and an expensive vase that Lila had gotten him for his birthday shattered against the wall. He stared at the shards for a moment as curiosity invaded his mind. He realized his housekeeper was still here and had heard the crash, he sighed, rubbing his face. What the Hell?

…

Hotch was sitting at his desk doing paperwork when the door to his office flew open. It hit the wall behind it with a bang, and he looked up. He recognized the man as the father of a young man he had convicted. The young man was a 20 something-year-old frat boy, who had killed a seven-year-old girl in a drunk driving accident. Here his father was, and he looked angry.

“You son of a bitch!” The man snarled.

“Excuse me?” Hotch said, standing. He had a few good inches on the man, and he turned his angry gaze upward.

“You got my son locked up, you bastard!” He yelled.

“Sir, I'm going to need you to leave.”

“No, you locked him up!”

“I didn't lock him up, sir, he got himself locked up,” Hotch said calmly, knowing that this probably wasn't the best response. But anyone hurting a child, even if it wasn't intentional, infuriated him.

“How dare you?” The man shrieked. “It was an accident!”

“It was a choice to drive intoxicated.” That seemed to be the last straw for the man, and he pulled a gun. Hotch's eyes widened as the man raised it and pulled the trigger. Hotch threw his arms up as if to stop the bullet. There was a bright flash of light and a scream.

But it wasn't Hotch’s. He opened his eyes, first noticing that the was a shield like energy surrounding him. He put his arms down abruptly, and the shield went away. He looked at the man across from him and had to stop the gasp that threatened to escape his lips. The man lay bleeding from a gunshot wound. Before he could even go to him, the man let out a final gurgling breath. His eyes clouded over and Hotch just stared. What had he done?

…

Emily Prentiss had become suddenly ill after going to the zoo with her niece and had come home to get some rest. She sat her purse down on the couch and walked into the kitchen. The rummaged around the junk drawer until she found what she had been looking for. Pulling out the thermometer, she pulled off the plastic cap and walked into the living room. She sat down on the couch next to her purse while she waited for the thermometer to confirm her suspicions. The little thing beeped and she checked the temp. Yup, she had a fever.

She didn't have an assignment since the last one had been deep undercover. She _so_ didn't want to think about that.

“Lauren Reynolds is dead.” She said out loud to herself. She went to her room and changed into pajamas. After that, she decided that simply chilling with a movie would be best. She sat on the couch, letting _The Godfather_ play as she drifted off to sleep. When she woke, Emily felt… different. She stood and stretched. She hopped off the couch, but something was off. Why was she close to the ground? She looked down at her paws… paws?

She reared back suddenly, but nothing changed. She walked past the large window and looked at herself. She was a cat. Oh god, she was a large black panther. She opened her mouth to say something, but all that came out was something that sounded like a meow. She really didn't want to be a Panther anymore. She repeated that in her head while willing herself to go back to normal. When that didn't work, she closed her eyes and tried to calm down. She took deep breaths and let them out slowly. She continued to do this until she gradually became a person again. She sighed with relief when she was sitting on the floor as herself again. And then she noticed that she was completely naked, except for a large torn t-shirt she had fallen asleep in. She quickly got up and away from the window. What had just happened?

…

JJ was cooking dinner in her apartment. She was making stir fry, which she was suddenly craving. She ran around the kitchen, doing this and that. She turned and knocked a glass of water off the counter with her elbow. She reacted the way someone reacts when something is unexpectedly thrown at them. With instinct. She threw her hand out as if to catch the water and it just… froze.

Mid-air, the water had stopped falling. She just stared at it, dumbfounded. It had now formed a sphere and was just floating there. She dropped her hand, and the water fell to the floor. It splashed everywhere, and she cursed. She grabbed a rag, throwing it on top of the water. She moved the rag around with her foot when shrill noise pierced the air. The fire alarm. She spun to see her stir fry on the stove, burning.

“Crap.” She said, reaching out to turn off the stove. When her hand got near the flames, they reacted. Like a sentient being, the fire reached down and stroked her hand. She gasped, pulling her hand away quickly. She looked down, fully expecting to see second and third-degree burns. What she had not expected was to see the perfectly fine skin on her hands. She looked up, swiping her hands at the fire again. It went out. She felt her eyebrows raise. How did she do that?

…

Rossi sat back in his chair. He wasn't lying when he said writer's block was a son of a bitch. He closed his eyes, willing his thoughts to come. He wanted the ideas to be like water, flowing. He opened his eyes and huffed. It hadn't worked. He stood, walking over to his liquor cabinet. He reached out to open it, but seemed to miss the knob. He grunted. Trying again, he had the same result. But the second time, he noticed the real problem.

His hand was going _through_ the door. He stood, stumbling back. He was suddenly across the room. He looked around. He was on the other side of his desk. He looked at his hands again, noticing this time that they seemed less solid. Like how images on a projector looked. He reached out, tentatively trying to pick up a piece of paper. His hand went right through it. He stared. He was getting too old for this kind of thing.


	4. Chapter 4

Penelope sat in an interrogation room, frowning at the glass. She had been picked up by the feds a few hours ago, and for what? Hacking a company that tested on animals. Well, those people deserved worse than what she did to them. Just because something was league didn't mean it was moral or ethical. She began tapping her black fingernails on the table in front of her. It was the first sign of agitation she had shown since she got here, and she knew that was the reason the ‘men in black’ finally showed up. One of them, an attractive man with sandy hair sat a file on the table in front of her. It had her name on it. She looked at it unimpressed. 

“I'm SSA Battle, this is SSA Dean.” The blonde one said, gesturing to his dark-haired partner. He took a seat across from her. “Do you know why we picked you up, Miss Garcia?” He asked. 

“Because the government can't just leave people like me alone?” She ventured sarcastically. 

“Because you hacked a pharmaceuticals company.”  The dark haired one spoke for the first time. 

“I have no idea what you're talking about, Agent.” She said innocently. “But I'm sure that the company got what it deserved.” 

“Even if it was what they deserved,” Battle said, playing nice cop. “It was still illegal.” he sounded disgustingly sympathetic. 

“Excuse me, but would you rather be referred to as Miss Garcia or The Black Queen?” Agent Dean asked. 

“My, my, what a nickname that is.” Was all she said. Not denying or confirming. 

“Well, did you know that many people refer to you as that? Or that you are on a special list of people?” Battle asked. She knew all about the first. The second question piqued her curiosity. 

“A list you say?” She asked. 

“Oh, yes.” Was all he said. 

“What am I on said list for?” She asked. 

“It is a list of hackers who pose a serious threat to national security. People to keep a close eye on.” He looked up at her. Her eyebrows raised. 

“Yeah?” She asked. 

“Yeah.” Battle said. 

“Which means we know a lot about you. And your past.” Dean spoke. She ground her teeth at the mention of her past. 

“So, where shall we start?” Battle wondered aloud. 

“You were born to Mr. and Mrs. Garcia July 7, 1977-” 

“Stop.” She warned. He didn't. 

“You lived as a happy family up until you were eighteen-” 

“Stop it. Now.” 

“When both of your parents were killed in a drunk driving accident.” The lights flickered slightly. 

“Ya know, in the police report, it says that they were killed while driving around at one in the morning. And that you were dressed like you were going out for a night on the town when the police came to your door. I wonder why your parents were out so late on a-” 

“I said stop!” She screamed as the lights blew out. Both men drew their weapons. In the dark, they all could see the purple electricity dancing along her skin. Like lightning. Everyone sat there, silent and tense for several minutes. The door opened, allowing light into the room. 

“Out. Now.”  An angry voice came from the doorway, and both agents scrambled out of the dark room. A new agent, presumably the one who spoke, walked into the room. “Please, Miss Garcia, if you will come with me?” She was instantly suspicious. 

“Why?” She asked warily. The man looked like he wanted to laugh. 

“Would you rather sit in the dark?” He asked. She shrugged and stood. He gestured for her to go first. He walked her to a new interrogation room and shut the door behind him. This was the first time she had the chance to really look at him. He was older, and he didn't really look like an FBI agent. He sat down across from her and didn't bother handcuffing her again, much to her surprise. He must have seen what she could do in the other room, right? 

“My name is Jason Gideon, I'm with the BAU.” He told her. “I noticed that you have… special abilities.” Her eyebrows raised. “And I don't just mean your hacking skills.” 

“So?” She managed to make that single word a challenge. 

“So, I've come to recruit you.” He said it so simply, she thought he must be kidding. 

“You're serious?” She asked. 

“Oh, very. See, I'm starting a new unit. This unit will be made up of… a few special people. On paper, it will be another section of the BAU, while really it is a unit for agents with supernatural abilities.” She looked around for the first time, noticing that there were no cameras. 

“And if I refuse?” She asked, head still spinning slightly from this new information. He shrugged. 

“Then, I hope you like spending time in a prison cell.” She simply looked at him for a moment. Trying to see if this was all some sort of joke. This seemed less like a joke, and more like a challenge to her. She looked at him with a defiant gleam in her eyes and said, 

“Where do I sign?” 

… 

Aaron Hotchner sat across from his old friend, Jason Gideon. He knew him from a few cases they had worked together. Jason caught them, Hotch prosecuted them. They made a good team. 

“So, Jason, why the sudden need to meet over lunch?” He asked. 

“What, can't I just ask an old friend to lunch?” Jason asked rhetorically. 

“ _ You  _ can't.” Hotch laughed. “There's always something. We haven't talked for months, now out of the blue you want to have lunch. I don't think so.” 

“You caught me.” Jason put his hands up in mock surrender. “We’ll get to that eventually. First, how are you?” Jason knew about the messy divorce and attempted shooting. 

“I'm fine, Jason.” Hotch sighed. “Yes, I'm going through a bit of a rough patch, but I'm holding up.” 

“Hmmm.” Jason hummed slightly. “You remember how you always used to tell me how you wanted to become an agent? Solve the cases before they ever came across your desk?” He asked. 

“Yes,” Hotch confirmed. 

“Why didn't you?” He asked. 

“It was too much traveling for Haley. She didn't want me in the line of fire.” He said. 

“Well, not to sound insensitive, but… Haley's not around anymore.” He said carefully. Hotch seemed to think about this for a moment. 

“You are right.” He eventually said. Jason leaned forward. 

“Then what's stopping you?” He asked. Hotch gave him a look. 

“Are you trying to recruit me, Jason?” He asked, sounding slightly surprised. 

“I am.” He said. 

“Why now?” He asked. 

“Well, there are a few reasons.” 

“Such as?” 

“There has been a change with you, right?” He asked. 

“Obviously,” Hotch said wryly. Jason shook his head at the sarcasm. 

“I don't mean with Haley.” Hotch looked confused, and then slightly nervous. 

“I have no idea what you mean.” He was shaken. No one could know. He couldn't explain it, and he was sure if people knew his life would be ruined, worse than it already was. 

“Aaron, I'm not trying to out you or anything, but… I'm starting a new unit. For people with supernatural abilities.” He lowered his voice. 

“So… there are others?” He asked. Jason nodded. “Look, I don't want to be known as some freak with ‘abilities’.” He air quoted. 

“My unit will just be another branch of the BAU,” Jason said. “Only those with the highest clearance will know what the members of this team really are.” 

“What if I enjoy my work as a prosecutor?” He wasn't really planning on saying no, he was just curious. 

“If you decide not to join my unit, I won't push you. But I will need you to remember that if you are discovered, I won't be able to help you.” It wasn't said as a threat. He was just telling the facts. Hotch nodded, understanding what he meant. 

“I'm in.” 

… 

Emily walked down the street after a day of shopping. Her arms were full of bags of clothes when her phone went off. She cursed, slipping most of them on to one arm and grabbing her phone with the other. She pressed it to her ear, not bothering to check the contact name. This was her work phone, after all. 

“Prentiss.” She answered, holding the phone with her shoulder as she came upon her apartment building. 

_ “Emily,” _ It was her boss, Clyde.  _ “I need you to come in.”  _ He said. She sighed, punching the code in for her apartment and pushing open the door. 

“Okay, I'll be there in 45.” She told him. 

_ “Be quick.” _ He said, hanging up.  She rolled her eyes. Changing into work clothes, she left for the office. She arrived exactly 40 minutes later. He met her halfway to his office. 

“We’re not meeting in there.” He said, steering her to a normally empty conference room. They walked in together. There was already an older man sitting in one of the chairs. “Prentiss, this is SSA Jason Gideon with the FBI.” He said. Gideon and Prentiss shook hands. 

“The BAU, actually,” Gideon said. 

“It's nice to meet you.” She said, throwing Clyde a questioning look. 

“Give us a moment?” Gideon requested politely. Clyde looked slightly suspicious but nodded. He left, and Gideon gestured for Prentiss to sit. They both did. 

“I don't mean to be rude, but, what is this about?” She asked. 

“I guess you could say that I'm here to recruit you.” 

“Recruit me? Why?” 

“You don't think that you are someone the FBI would want to recruit?” He asked. 

“Well, no, just… Why me? Why now?” 

“I'm starting a new unit, and I think that you would be a perfect fit.” 

“I'm not a profiler.” She remembered that he said he was from the BAU. 

“That's not what I mean.” 

“What do you mean?” He couldn't possibly know about  _ that.  _

“Something strange happened to you recently, yes?” Her breath hitched. 

“I don't understand.” She said. He sighed, pulling out a laptop. He set it in front of her and pressed play. It was a shaky video feed, obviously taken with a phone camera. The camera pointed up until it showed a large window. Prentiss recognized it as her living room window. There was a large black panther standing at the window. It looked scared as it backed away. Then it closed its eyes. The video stopped, and he turned to her. 

“That was you.” Was all he said. All she did was nod. 

“Yes.” She whispered. Her mouth and throat were suddenly dry. Was he going to show her boss? What would happen to her?

“That is why I'm here to recruit you. I'm creating a unit for agents with supernatural abilities. I'm not going to try to force or blackmail you, but I would like you to consider. No one will know what you are.” He placed a card in front of her. “I would appreciate an answer by next week.” She nodded mutely. Maybe this could be a good change for her. 

… 

JJ adjusted her earpiece, hiding it with her hair. 

“JJ, stop moving around so much!” Phoebe, her makeup artist, admonished. 

“Sorry.” She muttered, making Phoebe smudge her lipstick. 

“Stop!” She growled, or, tried to growl. Her voice was too high pitched to get very far low and she sounded like how you would imagine an angry kitten would sound. JJ resisted the urge to smile, not really feeling like getting into it with her today. She honestly wished she had Phoebe's job sometimes. 

Simple reasons, like being able to dress how she wanted. Today, her friend was wearing one of those white, flowy button up artist shirts and soft jeans. Her light, curly brown hair was pulled back into an impatient ponytail. Her hair was medium length, and whisps kept falling into her face. She brushed them back every once in a while. She had a naturally pretty face and was only wearing mascara today. JJ sighed, but it came out as more of a huff since her mouth was still closed. 

“Impatient, impatient.” Phoebe murmured. Ashley came running up to the pair as Phoebe was finishing up. 

“There is someone here to see you, Miss Jareau.” She said cheerily. 

“I told you-you don't have to call me that. It's so formal.” JJ said as Ashley led her to one of the empty conference rooms. 

“He's in here.” JJ’s brow furrowed. Who was here to see her? 

“Thank you, Ashley.” She said, opening the door. Ashley nodded and walked away as JJ stepped in, shutting the door behind her. The man was older, wearing a red Polo shirt and khakis. She approached him and he stood. She reached out and shook his hand. 

“Jennifer Jareau, good to meet you.” She said. 

“Jason Gideon, with the FBI,” he said, giving her a smile. Her eyebrows rose. 

“FBI?” She asked. He nodded. 

“Yes.” He said, sitting down. JJ followed suit. 

“What can I do for you today, Agent Gideon?” she asked. 

“Have you ever thought about joining the FBI?” He asked. She couldn't help it; she burst out laughing. This had to be a joke. 

“You're kidding, right?” She asked. He shook his head. 

“Not at all.” He had expected this reaction, or something akin to it. She was speechless. Sure, she had joined the police academy years ago, but she dropped out a week before graduating. 

“... Why?” She finally asked. “I'm a news reporter. I mean, I'm not even a field reporter anymore!” She was simply shocked. 

“I know that you joined the police academy a few years back, and I was wondering why you dropped out? You were passing with flying colors, you had potential. It was just strange to me.” He said. She managed to close her mouth, which had been gapping. He was  _ really  _ serious. She had dropped out when her sister was killed in the line of duty. Of course, she wasn't going to tell him that. 

“Why are you asking  _ now? _ ” She asked. He leaned slightly closer. 

“Strange things have been happening lately, right?” He asked. She froze. 

“I-” She stopped. What was she supposed to say? He was right. 

“I am creating a new unit, of people with supernatural abilities. I need a media liaison, and you are the perfect fit.” He said. She thought about this for a moment. An FBI Agent? She would be helping people… 

“I need time to think about this.” She said. He nodded. He handed her a card and stood. She watched him walk away. FBI, huh? Agent Jareau? She could get used to that. 

… 

Spencer stood after the lecture on profiling he had just sat through. The lecturer's name was Jason Gideon if he remembered correctly. The man was a legend. One of the very first profilers helped make the unit from scratch. Reid was putting things back into his messenger bag when someone stood next to him. He looked up to see Jason Gideon. He opened his mouth and then closed it. 

“Jason Gideon.” He said, reaching out his hand for him to shake. He did, albeit a little reluctantly. Since he was ready, it didn't hurt when their skin touched. He was jolted slightly though and was quick to pull his hand back. 

“L- Spencer Reid.” He said. 

“Spencer, I'm just going to cut to the chase. You seem to be a gifted profiler, and I want to recruit you.” He said bluntly. Reid just stared in shock. 

“Are you serious?” He asked. Gideon nodded, handing him a card. 

“We can set up a meeting and discuss this in more depth.” 

“Okay.” Was the only response his genius brain could come up with. 

… 

Morgan sat in on the bar stool, drinking a beer. He only got there about twenty minutes ago, and three women had already hit on him. Not that he minded. Someone sat on the stool next to him, and he turned, expecting to see another woman. What he was not expecting was an older man in a button-down shirt.

“I'll take one of what he’s having.” The man said, and then turned to Morgan. “Jason Gideon.” He nodded. 

“Derek Morgan.” He said, sounding a little suspicious. When his drink came, Gideon accepted it and turned to Morgan. 

“You ever think about joining the FBI?” He asked casually. Morgan choked on his drink. 

“What?” He managed. 

“I'm starting a new unit of the FBI, and I need people with… abilities like yours.” Morgan was instantly suspicious again. 

“What do you mean by abilities?” He asked. 

“Strange things have been happening to you lately, yeah? Things that you think should be impossible?” He took another drink. Morgan thought back to the times he had done things like almost ripping the doors in his apartment off their hinges, go for a jog and running faster than he should have been able to, smashing his alarm clock, etc. 

“So what if they are?” Morgan asked, more sounding more defensive than he’d like. Gideon smiled. 

“Then, I think I can help you with it.” 

.... 

Rossi looked at his old time friend and partner after listening to him ramble about a new team, trying to convince him to come out of retirement. He sipped his scotch, leaning back in his office chair. 

“So, you're trying to make a BAU super team? How can I say no to that?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I'm sure you can tell, this all happened over the course of a few weeks. But now everyone is on board! As always, comments and kudos are appreciated, and I hope you enjoyed!


	5. Chapter 5

Aaron Hotchner, Emily Prentiss, David Rossi, Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau, and Penelope Garcia all sat in the round table room at FBI Headquarters in Quantico, Virginia. This was the first time any of them would meet officially. All of them had entered the room at different times, starting with Hotch and finishing with Garcia. Every time someone new had entered, the entire room-sized them up. It was unnerving for most. 

They had all gone through training to become agents and profilers, accept Rossi, who took a refresher course. No one had spoken since they walked in, and they all felt the tension. This tension was due mostly to the fact that everyone knew that everyone else in the room could do something, but they didn't  _ know  _ what it was. That tension broke when Jason Gideon walked into the room. 

“Hello, everyone. Welcome to the team.” He said. “I will make introductions, to break the ice. This is Aaron Hotchner, he will be the Unit Chief, and he can create force fields and heal most injuries.” He began. Everyone was slightly shocked when he mentioned his power, thinking it was only names he was telling. “This is Penelope Garcia, she will be your technical analyst and she is a technopath. Emily Prentiss is a shapeshifter, Derek Morgan has invulnerability, Spencer Reid is an Empath and telekinetic, Jennifer Jareau will be your media liaison and she is a pyrokinetic and hydrokinetic. David Rossi, your senior profiler, can phase and teleport.” He gestured to each person as he said their name and power.  _ This is going to be the strangest group I've ever worked with,  _ Rossi thought with a slight shake of his head. 

… 

Morgan caught up with Reid after he left the conference room, wanting to introduce himself. 

“Hey!” He called out as he caught up with him. Reid turned. 

“Oh, hi.” He said, waving awkwardly. 

“So,” Morgan said, lowering his voice slightly. “Telekinetic, huh?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Reid said. 

“So you can move stuff with your mind?” Reid nodded. “That’s pretty cool,” Morgan said. Reid looked surprised. 

“Really? Not freaky?” He asked. 

“What? No way. That would be an awesome power to have.” Morgan said. Reid still looked surprised, but a small smile showed on his face. 

“Thanks.” He said. 

“Yeah. So, what's empathy?” He looked genuinely curious. 

“It, uh, I can feel other people's emotions and if someone touches I can, um hear their thoughts,” Reid explained quickly. 

“Woah. And I'm just indestructible.” Morgan joked. Reid laughed. 

“I don't know, that sounds pretty cool to me,” Reid said. Morgan nodded. They had reached their desks, and Reid sat down at his own. Morgan turned in the direction of his desk and ran into someone carrying a cardboard box. She stumbled backward in a flurry of black curls, dropping the box. Morgan reached out and steadied the woman, and he recognized her from the conference room.  

“My bad, Prentiss is it?” He confirmed her name. She nodded. They had been in the same class in the FBI Academy but had never talked. They hadn't known they would be on the same team, of course. 

“Yeah, I'm sorry, I'm a clutz.” She laughed, reaching down to grab the box. It wasn't on the ground, but floating a few feet. Prentiss blinked at it before reaching down again and grabbing it. She looked around and saw Reid a few feet away at his desk. He opened his mouth as if to say something but closed it. He looked embarrassed. 

“I- I'm sorry, I just thought that maybe you had something in the box tha-” He began, but she interrupted. 

“Thank you.” She said, taking a small black glass cat out of the box, setting it on her desk. He turned slightly pink. 

“You're welcome.” He said, still looking slightly embarrassed.

“Way to save the day, Pretty Boy.” Morgan laughed. 

“Pretty Boy?” Reid asked, making a face. 

“Yeah, man, it fits.” Morgan laughed. 

“How?” Reid said, throwing his hands in the air. Morgan was about to explain when the woman he recognized as JJ rushed in. 

“I've got consults for you guys.” She said, setting files on everyone's desks, then shook everyone's hands. 

“Jennifer, JJ if you like.” She said cheerily. They all greeted her and she hurried off again. It seemed as though social time was over. Everyone went about their respective tasks. 

… 

Rossi leaned back in his office chair, spinning slightly. There was a knock at his door, which was slightly ajar. Hotch peaked his head through. 

“Come in, have a seat,” Rossi said, and Hotch did as bid. 

“What do you think of the team?” Hotch asked. He and Hotch knew each other in the same capacity that Hotch and Gideon knew each other. 

“They are… unique.” Rossi said. Hotch laughed. 

“So, that's your nice way of saying they are strange.” Hotch ventured. 

“Um, yeah.” He said. 

“Well, that is the reason they were recruited. Same reason you were recruited, too.” Hotch jabbed at his friend. Rossi grimaced slightly. 

“Please, don't remind me.” He said. There was another knock at the door, and their media liaison stepped in. JJ, his mind supplied. 

“I've given everyone their assignments.” She informed them, leaving again. 

“She’s efficient,” Hotch commented. 

“Yeah, if only we had media liaisons in my day,” Rossi muttered. 

… 

Reid knocked on the technical analyst's door. He heard a faint “Come in.” from her side of the door and opened the door to reveal a surprisingly decorated office. There were many computer screens, which was a given, but the colors were not. He expected the darkness in her clothes the be expressed in her workspace as well. He was mistaken.

“Um, Garcia?” He asked and she spun in her chair to face him. 

“Hello, genius boy.” She said. He raised his eyebrows. Had she looked him up? He hadn't exactly told his colleges that he was a genius, being a freak that could move stuff with his mind was enough for introductions. He knew they would know eventually, of course. It was hard not to if you were around him often, but he hadn't expected it this fast. “Yes, I looked you up.” She said as if reading his mind. 

“Are you sure you're not an oracle, too?” He joked. She smiled at him. 

“The Oracle. I like that.” She said. “You're not too bad, Boy Genius.” He resisted the urge to roll his eyes playfully. Yeah, she wasn't too bad herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I feel like it is necessary to mention that Gideon has slight precognition and can also sense other supernaturals. I tried to incorporate that, but it wasn't working out for me ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯.


	6. Chapter 6

_ “The Oracle. I like that.” She said. “You're not too bad, Boy Genius.” He resisted the urge to roll his eyes playfully. Yeah, she wasn't too bad herself. _

_... _

_ 4 months later.  _

Reid was sitting in the bullpen, doing paperwork. He looked up as Prentiss walked in and sat down across from him at her desk. 

“Morning.” He said. 

“You are way too perky for this early in the morning.” She muttered. He raised an eyebrow. 

“Prentiss, it's nine o’clock.” Prentiss groaned in response. 

“Don't remind me.” He suddenly understood. 

“Hangover?” He asked. This was exactly how Lila acted when she had too much to drink the night before. His heart panged slightly at the thought of his best friend. He missed her and called her every week. She was the only one aside from the team who knew about his powers. 

“Yes.” She grumbled, pulling him out of his thoughts. Morgan approached the pair. 

“Late night?” He laughed. She grumbled an affirmative. 

“I'm never drinking again,” Prentiss muttered. 

“I know exactly how you feel,” JJ said as she approached the small group. She was carrying a coffee mug, having just come from the break room. They continued chatting for several minutes when Garcia, who had been slowly becoming more colorful the longer they worked together, ran in on high heels. 

“Reid, why didn't you tell me!” She cried, slightly out of breath. She brushed a blonde strand of hair out of her face, having dyed it a few weeks ago. He looked up, startled. 

“Tell you what?” He asked. 

“That you are the mask-” She began, but he cut her off. 

“Garcia!” He said loudly. Everyone was confused except for Reid and Garcia, who were having a silent battle of wills. Suddenly, she smiled widely. 

“Reid is the Masked Magician!” She announced. Everyone looked on in shock. 

“No, Garcia!” Reid cried. Everyone stared at him and started talking at once. 

“Dude, what?” Morgan asked, barking a laugh. 

“Oh, my God!” Was all JJ said, looking very excited. 

“No way,” Prentiss muttered, still holding her head. 

“I can't believe you, Garcia!” Reid was saying. 

“Maybe if you had told me sooner, I wouldn't have said anything.” She said, pouting slightly. He sighed and she continued. “You also could have told me that you dated Lila Archer!” She said, and his already red face flushed more. 

“N- no, we’re just friends.” He protested quickly. 

“That's not what the magazines say,” Garcia said smugly. 

“Kid's got game,” Morgan muttered. 

“And you think magazines are reliable?” He asked. 

“They are when they look like this!” She said, triumphantly holding up a magazine. On the front, was a picture of him kissing Lilas cheek with her smiling happily. 

“Oh, God.” He muttered quietly, letting his burning face fall into his hands. The other members of the team rushed over to look at it. All of them expressed their shock. 

“Woah, Spence, she’s so pretty!” JJ said. 

“Damn, kid.” Was from Morgan. Prentiss just let out a low whistle. 

“I know, right?” Garcia asked. 

“How did you even find that?” He mumbled, face still in his hands, elbows on the desk. 

“I stumbled upon it, believe it or not.” She replied, pride tingeing her voice. “I saw a picture of the Masked Magician from a promo for your second season while surfing the web. As you know, it only covers the top half of your face, and I would recognize that amazing jawline anywhere. And the eyes, too.” 

“It was so obvious.” JJ murmured, looking far off. Reid knew he would soon be bombarded with questions and resisted the urge to groan. 

“So, the show was canceled because you were recruited to join the FBI?” Prentiss asked. “Geez, I thought my life sounded like a soap opera.” 

“Did you ever use your powers on stage?” JJ asked. He shook his head. 

“No, only on the last one, to do something special.” He told her. 

“Why the mask?” Morgan asked. He wasn't as big a fan as the girls, but he still watched the show when he saw it was on. 

“I didn't want the attention,” Reid explained. Morgan snorted. 

“Only you would become a famous Hollywood actor and not ‘want the attention’,” Morgan said. 

“Well, you are just full of surprises,” Rossi said facetiously, passing them on the way to the break room with an empty coffee cup. 

“You don't sound surprised.” Prentiss noticed. 

“I'm not.” Rossi snorted. “I figured him out a week after working together.” Everyone stared at him. 

“Why didn't you tell us!” JJ demanded. 

“Because I, unlike some people, respect his privacy,” Rossi said, continuing his trip to the break room. Garcia had the good grace to look slightly abashed. 

… 

Rossi walked into Hotch's office with a full coffee cup and a smirk on his face. He sat down across from his friend. 

“They finally figured out Reid’s alter ego,” Rossi said, humor evident in his voice. Hotch looked up, a small smile gracing his features. 

“It took them this long?” He asked. Rossi nodded. 

“Yes, and I believe you owe me twenty dollars.” He looked smug. 

“I still think they should have figured it out sooner. They  _ are  _ profilers, for goodness sake.” He sighed, handing the twenty over. 

“Oh, but I think you forget, Reid is too.” He chuckled. Standing, and leaving the office. Hotch smiled to himself again. He should have known better than to make a bet with an Italian.


	7. Chapter 7

“Conference room in 5,” JJ said as she walked past Prentiss and Morgan, who were working at their desks. So far, their team had the highest solve rate in the Bureau. She headed into the break room to inform Reid, who was getting another cup of coffee. How did someone as skinny as Reid consume so much coffee, anyway? 

“Didn't we just get off a case?” Prentiss groaned, drawing Morgans attention to her. 

“Yeah, I know.” He said as he stood and she followed suit. They walked to the conference room together. 

“Why are they pushing us so hard lately? I think we’re due for a vacation soon.” Prentiss said. 

“We have the highest solve rate, of course, they are going to milk it for all it's worth,” Morgan said, taking another drink of the brown liquid he seemed dependant on nowadays. Prentiss grunted her agreement as they entered the room, sitting down. JJ, Rossi, and now Reid, who had just entered, were all there when Hotch walked in. What surprised everyone except JJ and Hotch was that Section Chief Gideon was there. 

“Let's get started,” Hotch said, his voice all business. They turned on the tablets Garcia had gifted the team, the crime scene photos that showed on the T.V. now displayed on them.  

“Young men in Temple Texas are being killed.” She began, handing the remote to Gideon. He took it and pressed the button, new photos flashing onto the screen. It was the original crime scene photos, no one gasped, though a few of them wanted to. The men were in warehouses with  _ vines  _ growing out of the walls and floors, wrapping around their hands, feet, and necks. It made the building look like a jungle. 

“This is why you have been called in.” He said. “This is why I assembled your team. We believe that this was done by a supernatural. Someone with control over plants.” He said, clicking to reveal more photos similar to the first one. It looked like these guys seriously pissed off Mother Nature. 

“More often than not, women have the power of plant manipulation. While that does not necessarily mean that the UNSUB is a woman, it makes it more likely.” Reid said. The others nodded. 

“All of these men have dark hair and light eyes. If it is a woman, it could be a scorned lover.” Prentiss said. 

“Let's not assume it is a woman just because the majority of plant manipulators are female. The majority of serial killers are male, but there are always exceptions.” He said. 

“Whatever the case is, we’ll figure it out. Wheels up in 30.” Hotch said, effectively dismissing them. All of them left except for Gideon and Hotch. 

“I know this is your first case with the supernatural involved. I also know you'll do well.” Gideon told him, clapping a hand on his shoulder before exiting the room. Hotch sighed and went to get his go- bag ready. 

… 

On the plane, the team continued to build the profile. Garcia popped up on the screen of the computer. 

“What’s up Baby Girl?” Morgan asked. Garcia gave him a slight smile before looking down at another screen. 

“There has been another murder. Sending the details right now.” She informed the group. 

“You're the best,” Morgan told her and she smiled wider. 

“I know. Oracle out.” She said, clicking a button with her pen. Everyone smiled at her antics. 

“What’ve we got on victimology?” Hotch asked. 

“The UNSUB has a type,” JJ muttered, despite not really being a profiler she had picked up a thing or two. 

“Yeah, dark hair, light blue or green eyes, well built, that's pretty specific,” Prentiss said, pushing a curl behind her shoulder. 

“Are they chosen at random, or does she choose these men for something other than just the way they look?” Rossi posed the question. 

“Maybe they did something that set the killer off,” Morgan suggested. 

“They look like they are strung up almost like puppets,” Prentiss commented. 

“Ya know, the Greeks translated ‘puppets’ as ‘neurospasta,’ which literally means string-pulling. And throughout time they've been used as a method to tell kings a story so the subjects didn't have to speak directly to him.” Reid said as if it were common knowledge. Everyone was mostly used to it by now and took it in stride. 

“Maybe the UNSUB was rejected by these men or someone who looks like them,” Reid said. Garcia popped back up on the screen. 

“I think I found a connection between the victims.” She said. “ I was doing a deeper dive into their histories, because that's what I do best, and I found out that they all signed up for the same dating site. It is for single, homosexual men who are looking for more than just a fling.” 

“Did any of them match with the same person? Or even just talk to the same person?” Hotch asked. She shook her head. 

“They won't give me access to their accounts. It's their privacy policy, they won't let me see who the victims matched or chatted with until I get a warrant.” She said sadly. 

“Did they have anything else in common?” Rossi asked. 

“Two of them shopped at the same grocery store frequently, three of them visit the same coffee shop sometimes, but other than that there's nothing. They ran in different social circles.” 

“Thanks, Garcia,” Hotch said. 

“You're very welcome, sir. I'll keep trying to get access to their accounts but it could take a while.” She said before signing off again. 

“Well,” Reid said. “If it is a scorned lover, I think it is safe to say they wouldn't be a woman.” Everyone agreed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am most definitely not the best at casefics, so this may be a little bit weird. I feel like if Elle were to have a power, it would be plant manipulation. The power of plan manipulation in this story is like Poison Ivy's power from the comic books, just without the charm and poisonous touch.


	8. Chapter 8

“I got it!” Garcia squealed as she popped up on the computer screen, making Reid jump nearly a foot out of his chair and let out a string of curses. He had been sitting the conference room that had been lent to them for the duration of this case with Morgan, both going over files. It had been silent in the room, aside from the occasional idea thrown out. The rest of the team was out chasing leads and JJ was trying to keep the whole ‘supernatural’ thing under wraps. Morgan was wearing a light grey shirt and black pants, while Reid was wearing his nerdy glasses and a white button-up shirt. Morgan looked up, surprised less by Garcia and more by Reid’s reaction. “Reid, do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” She asked rhetorically, smiling.

“Why so jumpy?” Morgan asked. Reid ran a hand through his already unruly hair.

“I can usually sense when people are approaching because of my empathy. I feel their energy from about a yard away, but I can't tell when the computer screen will turn on. It's unnerving.” He explained. Morgan understood that. Garcia barked a laugh.

“So, I'm the only one who can get the jump on you, Boy Genius?” She asked, still smiling.

“If you're on your computer.” He said.

“You said you got something, Baby Girl?” Morgan prompted.

“Oh, yes, they gave me access to the victim's accounts. I'm running a program to see if they all talked to the same person prior to their untimely demises- Yes!”

“What is it?” Morgan asked.

“They all talked to one Jake Hallasy. That's got to be our UNSUB.” She said. “Sending you the address to his apartment, now. You two are the closest.” She said. They both stood, leaving the room. They hoped that this case would be over soon, that for once they would have an easy arrest.

…

Morgan lifted his foot, kicking the door in with minimal effort. Reid, who was standing on the other side of the door, rushed in. His gun was raised and he cautiously moved into the hallway. He could feel Morgans protective presence at his back until they split, entering separate rooms. Morgan found a bathroom, pushing back the curtain to be sure. It always made him think about how his sisters used to ‘check for killers’ by opening the shower curtain when they entered the bathroom at night.

Reid pushed open his door and found a spare bedroom. He looked in the closet and under the bed before leaving. He and Morgan silently approached the final room. It was the master bedroom, from what they could see.

“Clear!” Morgan yelled, and it was echoed by the others in the house. He sighed, running a hand over his bald head.

“Garcia said that this was the only piece of property he had under his name. He was fired from his job last week after he stopped coming to work, so he’s not at his job.” Reid said, brow furrowing.

“We’ve got to get more information,” Morgan said as they exited the plant-filled room. Reid noticed that his sense of other people was dulled with so many plants around.

“Ya know, it's harder for me to sense other people with so many plants in one place. These don't feel like normal plants.” Reid told Morgan raised an eyebrow.

“Really? How so?” Morgan asked as they reached the car.

“It feels like… like they have a stronger presence. Almost as strong as people, but without all the emotions.” He said, looking fascinated by the prospect.

“Hmm.” Was all Morgan said, uneasy at that thought and what it could mean.

…

“There's been another murder,” Hotch told Reid and Morgan over the phone. They were heading back to the station to meet up with Hotch and the rest of the team to regroup.

_“Yeah, his apartment was a bust. The only thing indication it was even lived in was the plants.”_ Morgan said. There was the sound of the phone shifting and Reid spoke.

_“It could have been a while since he had been there, really.”_ He informed them. _“Most of the plants are succulents, which can go months without needing to be watered. They also felt almost sentient, like people but without emotions. I think he may have programmed them to take care of themselves.”_ He finished his little ramble on a sort of disturbing note.

“Get back here as soon as possible. We need to get this guy.” Hotch said before hanging up. He turned to Prentiss, who was seated next to him.

“I'm guessing the latest victim was killed the same as the previous?” He asked, and she nodded.

“Yes, but he’s getting more aggressive. The victim was nearly decapitated with the force the vines demonstrated. From what I understand, the plants would react to his emotional state.” She told him.

“He’s devolving,” Rossi muttered, still deep in thought. JJ entered at the same time as Morgan and Reid. They all sat down, and Hotch dialed Garcia.

“Who’s your daddy?” She said as soon as she answered.

“I'm putting you on speaker,” Hotch said, fighting a smile.

“Oh, you are no fun at all.” He could hear the pout in her voice, trying to decide whether or not it would be appropriate to facepalm. He put her on speaker.

“Tell us you got something, Mamma,” Morgan said.

“I do. He is recently divorced, the man he was married to filed domestic abuse charges, but he wouldn't testify and the charges were dropped. Poor honey.” Garcia said. “And, before you ask, he looks like the victims. It's kind of freaky.”

“Garcia,” Reid said. “Look into if he has any friends that would help him. Anyone who owns property.” Reid said.

“Well, he doesn't have many friends, hon. No one he could go to, as far as I can tell.”

“We’re looking for a hideout, Garcia. Someplace he might feel safe or knows he won't be found.” Prentiss added.

“Oh! There is an old house in the country that was owned by his grandparents. He inherited it when they died in a… hiking accident.” she gasped. “Mr. Hallasy was impaled by a tree branch after falling down a hill. Mrs. Hallasy died of a heart attack directly after. That can't be a coincidence.” She said.

“Garcia, what's the address?” Hotch asked, the rest of the team already standing and awaiting direction.

“Sent to your phones.” She still sounded disturbed by what she had learned, but the team was already gone.

 


	9. Chapter 9

The team pulled up to the house, headlights off in an attempt to avoid startling the man. Everyone approached the house, guns drawn. Reid went around back with JJ and Morgan. He looked around and spotted a shed in the backyard. He had a feeling that it also needed to be checked out. There was probably no one in there, but better safe than sorry. He tapped JJ on the shoulder. 

“I'm going to check the shed.” He whispered to her. She nodded, and he repeated the statement over the small radio sewn into all of their vests before changing direction. He walked under the moonlight, keeping all of his senses open. When he got closer to the shed, it occurred to him it was more of a greenhouse than an actual shed. The plant life in there was suffocating his senses by the time he was next to the door.  

Morgan and JJ heard Hotch say “Go!” Over the little radio shortly after Reid told them where he was going. Morgan kicked the door in and JJ ran in, him following closely behind her. There entered the kitchen, all the lights were turned off. 

Prentiss, Hotch, and Rossi were approaching the front door. They were on the front porch when Reid announced his detour. Hotch gave the okay on him checking it out before turning his attention to the task at hand.

“Go!” He said and nodded to Rossi, who phased and walked through the door. The lock clicked from the other side and the door swung open to reveal Rossi, who was solid again. Prentiss and Hotch entered silently, flashlights moving around in the dark hallway. Prentiss and Rossi went up the stairs and he knew that JJ and Morgan had the main level covered. He carefully approached the basement door, wary of what might be hiding at the bottom of those concrete stairs. He walked down and into the heavy opaque, the minimal light from his torch not doing nearly enough to cut through the oppressive darkness. 

Morgan and JJ split up when they came upon the first set of rooms. Morgan walked into what looked to be a guest bedroom. He cleared it and moved onto the next. He and JJ moved together toward the last door, which as casing shadows with the dim light coming from under it. They made eye contact before he nodded and opened it quickly, a bright wash of light blinding the pair for a few seconds. 

Prentiss and Rossi walked up the old stairs, expecting each step to creak all the way up. Though they didn't, the two agents were no less unnerved. The upstairs consisted of two doors at the end of a short hall. Prentiss' ponytail swung as she rushed into the room. She heard the swish of a door behind her and knew that Rossi had entered his room. Adrenaline pumping, she looked around. This room was dusty and she tried to stop a cough from escaping her throat. There was no unsub in the room, and she said so over the radio. 

JJ and Morgan were blinded by the sudden light as they entered the room. The effect quickly wore off and they could see there was no one in the room. The bed was made and a lamp was turned on. There was no UNSUB in the closet or under the bed, and they announced it over the radio at almost exactly the same time as Prentiss. There was still no word from Hotch, Rossi, or Reid. 

Hotch walked down the stairs and into the dark. He felt his foot hit the floor after the last step. The room seemed too still to be normal, but he ventured on regardless. He walked around the boxes of various shapes and sizes, his flashlight as much of a weapon as his gun. Both of which were a comfort to have. He heard Prentiss, Morgan, and JJ tell him that their sections were covered. There was no UNSUB in the basement, he concluded. He said so over the radio and walked up to the kitchen. 

Rossi entered his room and looked around. The room looked to be a small library, illuminated by the silver moonlight streaming through the large windows. There was no fire in the fireplace, and the books on the shelves were dusty as if they hadn't been moved for many years. He heard the girls and Morgan give their clear, followed by Hotch. He spun around once more, before declaring that his room was “clear” over the radio. He looked out the large window before leaving the room. From where he was positioned, he could see the shed. The door as slightly ajar, and he realized that Reid still hadn't radioed in. He began his half jog to the kitchen to tell the other team members about the door to the shed. 

Reid took a deep breath of the cool night air before entering the greenhouse. There were many plants, which was to be expected considering where he was. It still freaked him out, that he was on the UNSUBs terf now. He walked the rows, noting that the plants were bigger than they should have been. He reached the far end of the small structure and almost breathed a breath of relief. And he would have if he hadn't felt something wrap around his ankle. He realized second too late what was happening. The vine yanked and he fell on his front, gun sliding away from his sprawled form. He went to reach for it when a second vine made its way around his wrist. A man stepped out in front of him and two more vines twined around his remaining limbs. Reid was about to use his telepathy to get his gun when the man spoke. 

“What do we have here?” He wondered aloud in a deep voice. Reid's breathing hitched as the man picked up his Glock, inspecting it. He looked back at Reid and motioned with his hand. The vines pulled his arms back roughly until he was in a kneeling position, his lower legs still pinned to the grave. The man took another step closer, and Reid tensed. 

“FBI, huh?” He said. Reid evaluated his options and decided that playing along was safer until he had a plan. He nodded. The man crouched in front of him, searching his eyes and face. “You know, while you aren't really my type, you are cute.” He said and, if possible, Reid tensed further. The man chuckled and stood. That was when Reid got an idea.

“It's all clear up-” Prentiss was saying as Rossi entered the kitchen. The Radio suddenly crackled to life, but it wasn't Reid's voice that came over the speaker. 

“Is the FBI really that stupid?” It was a voice none of them recognized. All of their eyes widened. 

“To send in someone like you to try and apprehend me? Me! I am a god. Did they not see what I can  _ do?  _ And they send out some kid with a gun!” As Jake talked, Reid used his telepathy to push the button on his radio. Jake was now pacing and Reid knew he felt as if the FBI thought he was weak. The vines tightened slightly. Reid knew he had to say something to appease the man and give the team time to reach him. 

“They didn't send out some kid with a gun to try and catch you,” Reid told him. “They sent out a trained telepath because that's what they thought it would take. Someone with powers against someone with powers.” This made the UNSUB pause. 

“You're what?” He growled. Just then, the door banged open and his team rushed in. Jake turned, startled and Reid took his chance. He tore the vines with his telepathy and rolled away. 

The team rushed into the greenhouse and Hotch watched Reid free himself when the UNSUB turned. Jake raised his gun, and Hotch didn't hesitate. He fell to the floor with a thud and the rest of the team advanced on their agent. Rossi kicked Reid’s gun away from Jake before checking his pulse. He looked up and shook his head to Hotch, indicating that there wasn't one. Hotch looked back to Red when he spoke. 

“Do you even know what the chances of him being in here as opposed to the house were?” He sounded exasperated and, despite the situation, everyone smiled slightly. 


	10. Chapter 10

“I'm fine, I promise.” Reid was saying for what felt like the millionth time. “I don't need to go to the hospital.” 

“Are you sure? He didn't do anything?” JJ was hovering, hands flitting nervously as if she wanted to grab him and physically make sure he was okay. She, of course, knew that he wouldn't appreciate that. 

“He only wounded me with his words. A kid with a gun? Seriously? I'm 26 for goodness sakes!” he knew she wouldn't appreciate his joke, but he wasn't really injured. At JJ’s glare, he sighed. “I only have bruises on my wrists and ankles.” He told her, rolling up his sleeves to prove it. She looked it over. 

“Okay.” She said reluctantly. They could have been worse, she told herself. 

“How did he get the jump on you anyway?” Morgan asked from the driver's seat. “I thought that you could sense when people were near?” 

“I can, but… well, he doesn't have many emotions and his energy was so intertwined with the plants, that he felt like one of them. It's like if I had walked in and he was wearing camouflage. I wouldn't be able to see him until he revealed himself.” Reid explained. 

“Huh. That's… really creepy.” Morgan said. 

“Tell me about it,” Reid muttered as they pulled into the airstrip. 

… 

Everyone had already expressed their worry for Reid, whether it was through asking him how he was or scolding him for being stupid.  Rossi and Hotch were now discussing which brand of scotch was better, JJ, Prentiss, and Morgan were chatting about a book series- Unnatural or Supernatural or something- and Reid was texting Lila. the cabin was only partially lit and the atmosphere was relaxed. 

“No, Sam is obviously the superior character! He is smart and funny and sensitive.” Prentiss was saying when Morgan blanked out. He liked the series, but he refused to be a part of this. The girls were arguing over which of the two main characters was sexier. He felt like staying there would increase his chances of being pulled into the debate, so he walked over to Reid, who was sprawled out on the couch. 

“What's up?” Morgan asked as he sat down on one of the chairs across from the couch. 

“Texting,” Reid said, fingers flying across the screen. Morgan raised an eyebrow. 

“Since when do you text?” 

“I only text one person. I think it's impersonal and more difficult than talking on the phone, but she loves it.” Reid shrugged. 

“Well, who is this mystery woman?” Morgan asked, curious. 

“Her name is Lila,” Reid smirked slightly at something she had texted him. He then looked up at Morgan. 

“Ooh, is she your girlfriend?” Morgan teased. He knew she wasn't, he just liked giving the kid crap.

“W-what? No! I already told you, she’s just a friend.” He stuttered out. It always made him uncomfortable when people thought he and Lila were together. 

“Sure, sure,” Morgan said it like he didn't believe him. He grinned when Reid began to look annoyed. 

“I'm being serious.” He said. Morgan just shrugged. 

“Okay, whatever.” He said, still in that disbelieving voice. Reid’s brow creased. 

“You're messing with me, aren't you?” He asked. Morgan burst out laughing.

“Yeah, I'm messing with you.” He said, still laughing. Reid rolled his eyes and went back to his texting. Morgan, still smiling, pulled out his iPod turned it on. He fished his earbuds out of his pocket while it powered up. He plugged them in and let the deep base eventually lull him into unconsciousness. 

… 

The plane landing startled Morgan awake. He looked around to the other members of the BAU grabbing their things. 

“Look who's finally awake.” Prentiss teased when she looked over and saw his eyes open. He grunted and sat up in his seat. 

“I slept through the whole flight?” He asked. She laughed. 

“Oh yeah. And you snored too.” She said. He snorted. 

“Sorry. If I start snoring, just roll me over.” He told her. JJ laughed. 

“We did. Reid heard you snoring, woke up, walked over and just rolled you. Almost right off the chair.” She said, grinning. Reid yawned. 

“Well, yeah. It's like trying to sleep with a jackhammer going.” He said. Morgan barked a laugh at this. 

“How did you know what to do, anyway?” JJ asked as they walked off the plane and towards the cars. 

“I used to share an apartment with this guy named Ethan. He was worse than Morgan.” Reid told them. Prentiss shuddered at that. 

“How is that even possible?” She asked. 

“Hey! I'm not that bad.” Morgan protested, but he was smiling. 

“Sure you're not,” JJ said as they got into the SUV. Morgan huffed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just thought a nice fluffy chapter would be cool. I hope you like it, even if it's just a filler. :)


	11. Chapter 11

The team sat in the briefing room. They knew that this case had been regarding the Trish Davenport kidnapping. There was a note up on the screen. 

“‘You will follow instructions carefully.’” Reid read aloud. “‘You will do this to ensure the safety of your daughter. You will wait for the call. You will answer the call at 8:00 P.M.  You will write down the instructions and follow them to the letter.’” He finished reading it and turned to his teammates. 

“That gives us less than 9 hours to get to Connecticut, work up victimology on Trish Davenport, and prepare her father for the ransom drop,” Hotch stated. 

“Wait, how do we even know that this letter is real?” Prentiss interjected. 

“The handwriting is a match to Trish's, and they found saline on the paper,” JJ said. 

“Her tears.” Rossi murmured. JJ nodded. 

“He made her write it down,” Hotch said. 

“He never says ‘I’. It's always ‘you’. He doesn't say ‘I will call.’ He says ‘You will answer the call.’ He’s distancing himself.” Morgan noticed. 

“It's strange that there's no mention of the police,” Prentiss said. “Ransome almost always forbid police presence.” 

“So, he what? Wants the police there?” Morgan asked. 

“Well, let's not disappoint him. Wheels up in 20.” Hotch said.

… 

The team sat on the plane, but impatiens was clear in all of their faces. They knew that time was of the essence, and it was slipping away fast. 

“Everyone’s familiar with the father?” Hotch asked, looking down at the screen of his tablet. 

“Evan Davenport, U.S. attorney, executive assistant, Southern District, New York. WIdower, assigned U.S. Marshals three times in the past ten years due to death threats.” Reid fired off, glad to do something.

“Is the protective detail current?” Morgan asked. 

“Around the clock, but Trish declined protection when she turned 18,” Hotch told him. 

“Too bad for the boyfriend,” Prentiss muttered. 

“But why kill the boyfriend at all?” Reid wondered aloud. 

“Well, if I'm gonna kidnap someone, I know I have to take out whoever is with them,” Morgan said. 

“It says here she has a sister.” Rossi noticed. 

“Yeah, uh, Cheryl,” Prentiss confirmed. 

“Any problems? Are they close?” Morgan asked. 

“Yeah,” Reid said. “They’re  identical twins.” He held up a picture of the two girls smiling. Morgan raised his eyebrows. This could make things interesting. 

 

… 

“Hey mama, whatcha got on the staff at the Davenport house?” Morgan asked Garcia over the phone. 

“Well, my chocolate thunder, I regret to inform you that they are all squeaky clean.” She said. 

“Okay, thanks anyways Baby Girl.” He said, hanging up the phone. 

“What's going on?” Prentiss asked as they pulled up to their destination. 

“I don't know,” Morgan said, trying to see over the hood of the car. 

“Is she… laying in the road?” Prentiss asked, and then opened her car door. Morgan also got out. 

“Huh.” He said as he got a better look. Yep, Cheryl Davenport was laying in the road. 

“What's going on here?” Prentiss asked as she approached her two bodyguards. The man looked over at where the girl was laying. 

“She’s laying in the road.” He said. Morgan scoffed. 

“We get that.  _ Why  _ is she laying in the road?” Morgan clarified. 

“She’s trying to get a feel for what happened to her sister.” He spoke again. Morgan raised an eyebrow. 

“And you don't think that’s weird.” He stated. 

“She and her sister spent their teenage years learning how to throw their bodyguards. I'm just glad she’s in our line of sight.” The woman spoke this time with a shrug. Prentiss and Morgan looked at each other before approaching the girl that was still lying there.

“Miss Davenport-” Morgan began, but she cut him off. 

“Shhh!” She hissed. “Just a minute.” She said, louder this time. He suddenly sat up and looked around. She stood, dusting off her back. 

“He dragged her from the car, here.” She said, standing in a new spot. “She fought him. Trish is a fighter, she wouldn't have gone quietly, even with a gun to her head.” 

“Well, she’s not wrong,” Prentiss said, looking down at her tablet. “There were nail marks in the seat.” Morgans brow furrowed slightly as he looked back at Trish. 

“I'm not crazy- I was laying there for a reason.” She defended at his incredulous look. 

“Trying to get a feel for your sister?” Morgan asked, voice doubtful. Prentiss slapped him on the arm. 

“Look, this isn't some ‘I feel my twin's pain’ crap, okay? It's not like if you stick her with a needle, I cry out. But I can feel when somethings wrong. Even thousands of miles apart at college.” She ended, looking sad. 

“You are a science major, right?” Prentiss asked and received a glare. 

“If you're wondering why a science major would believe in something nonscientific, well I don't. I just know what I feel. And something is wrong.” She looked at each of them and they both nodded. 

Morgan walked over to where the car had been when Trish was taken. He messed with the branches on the tree, stepped into the foliage. He walked back out and looked around. The two women watched in silence for a moment. 

“What's he doing?” Cheryl finally asked. 

“He’s roleplaying. Trying to get a feel for what's going on in the kidnappers head through his actions.” Cheryl snorted. 

“And thought what I was doing was ridiculous.” She said. Morgan looked around one more time before he began talking. 

“Okay. So, I want to get to Trish and I have to take out the boyfriend. So I do, and I grab her. He is just collateral damage… No.” He said, finally figuring out what was wrong with that picture.  “A shot to the face, that's personal. She has to get her, but he has to get her… Alone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has recently come to my attention that the end note I wrote for the first chapter of this story is showing up on my more recent chapters, and I don't know if only I can see it or how to make it go away. If you can see the note, just... ignore it? I don't know if its a glitch or something so whatever.


	12. Chapter 12

“This button answered the call and this one mutes our end,” Reid explained how the trap and trace machine worked to Mr. Davenport. They had set up shop at his house because they didn't want to be splitting time between there and a field office. It was almost 8:00, and the team was ready. JJ and Morgan were in the kitchen, talking. 

“So, you think she’s crazy because she thinks she can feel her sister's anxiety?” JJ asked once he finished his story about what happened when he and Prentiss went to see her. 

“I didn't say that.” He defended. 

“It was implied.” She gave him a look. “Either way, is it really that crazy? I mean, I can control fire and water, Prentiss can change shape, Reid can feel other people's emotions and move stuff with his mind. Her sensing her sister is a  _ lot  _ less outlandish when you think of it that way.” She said. He nodded, acknowledging her point. He was about to say something when Reid interrupted. 

“Uh, guys, it's almost time.” He told them, leaving again with them following him this time. They all entered the living room. Hotch was coaching Mr. Davenport on how to answer the call and Prentiss was comforting Cheryl. The clock turned to 8:00 and everyone waited tensely. 

“He said he would call.” Evan Davenport said, sounding distraught. He looked at the agents. 

“He will. He just wants you on edge.” Hotch said. Just then the phone rang. Mr. Davenport took a breath and answered. 

“Hello?” He said. 

“Hello, Mr. Davenport.” The man said. Mr. Davenport closed his eyes. 

“Are you the man who has my daughter, Trish?” He asked carefully. 

“Yes.” The Unsub said. 

“Can I ask-” He began but was cut off. 

“You may not ask me anything. I don't want to speak to you.” Mr. Davenport looked around, panicked. 

“Who do you want to speak to?” 

“Put  _ her  _ on the phone.” He said. “Put Cheryl on the phone.” Hotch hit the silence button. 

“What is he doing?” Mr. Davenport asked. 

“He’s doing what all these guys try to do; establish dominance,” Hotch said. 

“But why would he want to talk to Cheryl?” Rossi asked.

“Yeah, it doesn't make any sense. She isn't an authority figure.” Morgan agreed.  

“Let me do it.” The girl in question stepped up. Prentiss shook her head, as did Hotch. 

“No.” He said resolutely. 

“I think we should,” Reid said. 

“I'm waiting.” The Unsub said. 

“I want to help my sister,” Cheryl said. 

“No.” Hotch said, and then gestured JJ forward. “JJ,” He said, pointing to the chair. She nodded and sat down. Pressing the unmute button, she answered. 

“Hello? This is Cheryl.” She said. 

“You're not Cheryl. Get off the phone.” He sneered. She pushed the mute button again and looked at Hotch. He grunted. 

“Okay, Cheryl, come here,” Hotch said after a moment deliberation. She hurried over as JJ vacated the chair. 

“Okay,” Prentiss said, walking over with her. “You need to be calm. Talk about Trish, say a thing like ‘my sister Trish.’ Humanize her. Agree with everything he says and, as hard as it may be, empathize.” She nodded and Prentiss pushed the button again. 

“Hello,” Cheryl said. 

“Hello, Cheryl.” The man said fondly. She repressed a shudder. “How are you?” He asked. She paused and then answered. 

“I'd be a lot better if I knew my sister, Trish, was okay.” 

“Yes, you have a lot of  _ empathy  _ don't you Cheryl?” He asked. 

“Yes.” She whispered. 

“What is your favorite color?” He asked. She looked up. Prentiss pressed the mute button. 

“Don't answer that. Keep this about Trish.” She pressed the button again. 

“If I answer that will you let me talk to my sister?” She asked. 

“Maybe.” He said. 

“I like blue.” She finally choked out. He hummed. 

“So ordinary.” He murmured. 

“Can I talk to Patricia now?” She asked.  

“Do you like chocolate, Cheryl?” He asked. She was quiet. “Do… you… like… chocolate?” He asked again. 

“Yes.” She just barely kept in a sob. The other end was quiet until there was the sound of wood creaking. “Trish?” She asked desperately.

“Cher?” Came the voice on the other end. She couldn't keep in the sob this time. “Oh, God, Trish, are you okay? What do you see?” She asked. 

“I see… the moon.” Her words slurred slightly and the sound of footsteps was heard. 

“Trish? Trish! Trish, answer me! Put her back on the phone, you bastard!” She screamed. 

“You will have 50,000 dollars ready. You will answer the call in 15 minutes and follow the instructions you are given.” And with that, the line went dead. Cheryl sobbed and leaned into her father's embrace. The others sighed. 

“Well… that could have gone worse.” Rossi said once the Davenports had left the room. 

“He sounded like he was reading from a script,” Reid said. 

“Yeah, until he was talking the Cheryl. He sounded relaxed with her.” Morgan agreed. 

“So, what? He knows her?” Prentiss asked. 

“I'll get Garcia on it,” Morgan said, leaving the room to make the call. 15 minutes later, the Unsub called just as he had promised. He instructed Cheryl to gather the money and to drop it off. 

“There is no way I will let her go into the field,” Hotch said, shaking his head. 

“I agree. It's too risky.” Rossi voiced his opinion. 

“Well, does anyone have a better idea?” Morgan asked rhetorically. 

“Actually… I do.” Prentiss said. “But I, uh, can't say what it is in a room full of people.” She told them quietly. Hotch nodded and he and the rest of the team followed her outside. Once Reid confirmed that there was no one in the immediate vicinity, she began. 

“What if I went?” She said. Everyone gave her blank looks except for Reid, who was looking at her like she was the smartest person he had seen all day. 

“Um, I hate to break it to you, but you look nothing like her,” Morgan said. 

“Not yet.” Now Reid looked gleeful. “I think you all forget; Emily’s a shapeshifter.” He said. Everyone just stared. 

“I thought you could only turn into animals!” Morgan said. 

“I did too, until a few weeks ago. I can turn into anyone I see.” She told them. 

“Are there any problems that you could think of that could arise from this?” Hotch asked. 

“The longer I hold a shape, the more difficult it becomes. But that shouldn't be a problem.” She said. Hotch nodded. 

“Well, then, get ready.” He said.


	13. Chapter 13

The team told the Davenports that they had a lookalike. When they argued, Prentiss was brought out. She, of course, made a few changes to her appearance when talking to them. Making her nose and eyes bigger, darkening her skin slightly, small changes so as to throw off suspicion. They borrowed some of Cheryl’s clothes and they were ready to go. 

“This is so weird.” Prentiss, who currently looked and sounded like Cheryl, muttered. 

“Tell us about it.” Was Morgans reply. They were speaking over the phone and she was driving to the used car lot. 

“Focus,” Hotch said, getting them back on track. 

“Cheryl's car has GPS, so we’ll be able to track Emily. Right?” Garcia asked. 

“Switching cars is probably the first thing he’ll have her do. He doesn't want her followed.” Reid said. 

“That would explain why he chose a car lot,” JJ said. 

“We’re getting off topic again,” Rossi said. 

“Sorry.” Everyone on the call except Hotch and Rossi said. Hotch sighed. 

“I'm pulling in.” Not-Cheryl informed them. 

“Keep the earpiece in,” Hotch instructed. 

“Will do.” She said, moving her hair so that it was better concealed. 

“What do you see?” Asked Morgan. 

“Nothing but cars and dark creepiness.” She shuddered. She stopped the car and the phone rang. She looked down at it for a moment. “Hello?” She said in her best Cheryl impersonation. 

“You will step out of the car and shut the door. Bring the money.” Came the Unsubs voice. She reluctantly did as bid, standing out in the cold night. Despite the weight of the gun at her hip, she was still uneasy. 

“Okay, I did it.” She said. Speaking and hearing Cheryl's voice was still strange to her. 

“Step further away from the car and wait for me to pull up. I will bring your sister and collect the money.” He said and, again, she did as she was told. She now stood out in the open, waiting for this Unsub to get there. She was normally the one chasing them, and she did not appreciate this change in roles. She saw a car pulling up without its headlights. She braced herself for what might happen. She hung up as the door opened, and she realized there was something wrong with this scene. He wasn't wearing a mask, and there was no Patrisha Davenport. She had just processed what was happening when he was tried to grab her. 

She dropped the bag as he locked her wrists in a bruising grip. He pulled her against his chest, arms crossed over each other. At this angle, it was nearly impossible for her to move her arms. He began to drag her back towards his car. She was only as strong as the form she took, but she fought him nevertheless. Before he got very far, she dropped all of her weight- which wasn't much, but apparently enough. He stumbled, loosening his hold on her slightly, but it was enough. She broke away, turning quickly. He recovered and made another move for her, but she was ready this time and punched him square in the nose.

“Shit!” He shouted, holding his now bleeding nose. This gave her the chance to pull her gun, which she did.

“Don't move.” She growled. He looked at her, eyes wide. 

“You're not Cheryl.” He said, obviously shocked. 

“No shit, Sherlock.” She muttered, grabbing both his raised hands and cuffing them. “You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you can not afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you.” She had just finished reading him his rights when flashlight beams cut through the darkness. 

Everything happened so quickly and before she knew it, he was being taken back to the station for interrogation and she was being checked over by paramedics. By the time the paramedics were done, she was beginning to get uncomfortable. Holding a form for this long was not fun and she grimaced. While it didn't really hurt -yet- it still felt wrong. If she didn't change back soon, she wouldn't be able to keep her current form. She looked up as JJ walked up to her. 

“What's this?” She asked as JJ handed her a bundle of clothes. 

“Reid told us that it would become extremely uncomfortable if you had to hold this form much longer, so I brought you new clothes. I figured you wouldn't want to be wearing those clothes as… you.” JJ told her. Prentiss smiled. 

“Thanks, Jayje.” She said, and she meant it. After all, she was quite a bit bustier than Cheryl and wearing her shirt as not her would not be fun. She left the back of the ambulance to get changed. JJ watched her go and walked back over to Morgan, who was waiting for the girls to drive them to the station. He figured they would want to watch or participate in the interrogation. A few minutes later Prentiss- as herself again- walked up to the two of them. 

“I see you're back.” Morgan joked. 

“I never left. I just looked… different.” She said, rolling her eyes. 

“Same difference.” He said as they got in the SUV. Prentiss climbed in the back and the other two sat in the front with Morgan behind the wheel.  

Prentiss, Morgan, and JJ entered the observation room. Rossi was already there and nodded his greeting. Reid and Hotch entered the interrogation room, where their suspect sat at the metal table. There was still some blood under his nose and Prentiss smirked in satisfaction. He had blond hair and green eyes, which were staring at the two agents that had just entered the room. They had identified him as Vincent Shyer, SWAT had already searched his apartment- they found no sign of Trish. Garcia was already trying to find any other property owned by him, but so far had found nothing. 

“Mr. Shyer, I am SSA Hotchner and this is Dr. Spencer Reid. we’d like to ask you a few questions regarding Patricia Davenport.” Reid had only been brought in to try and see what he could glean from his emotions and possibly his thoughts if the opportunity presented itself. 

“Doctor?” He asked, and Reid could feel the incredulity dripping from him. 

“Yes.” Was all Reid said. 

“Aren't you a bit young to be a doctor?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“We aren't here to talk about me. Where is Patricia Davenport?” Was Reid's response. 

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” He put on a poker face, and Hotch knew this was going to be a long night. 


	14. Chapter 14

“You know they don't love you, right?” Reid asked. He knew that he would need this man to make skin to skin contact with him if he wanted to find Patricia. The problem was that he couldn't legally initiate contact without jeopardizing this case. 

“I have no idea what you mean,” Vincent said, but Reid could tell he was getting to him.

“I know your type, Vince.” He said quietly, leaning closer. “You love them, and you want them to love you back  _ so much  _ that you delude yourself into believing that they do. You hold on to that fantasy until you can't anymore. You have to take action, right? She got engaged. How could she do that to you?” He could feel Vincent becoming more unstable. 

“She wasn't supposed to.” The man said. “She loves me.” Reid shook his head. 

“You had to kill him just to get her to notice you. That had to sting, right?” Vincent didn't move, staring him down. “That's why you took her. But see, I just don't think you're good enough. For either of them. That's why Cheryl went away to college and Trish got engaged. Because you aren't-” He stopped when Vince grabbed his hand forcefully. 

“You have no idea what you're talking about.” He hissed. His thoughts echoed his statement and Reid knew this was his chance. 

“Where is she?” He could see an abandoned warehouse, just outside of town. Vince let go of his hand as if burned. 

“What did you do?” He growled. Reid just stood and nodded to Hotch. 

“Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Shyer,” Reid said as he and Hotch left the room. 

Morgan, Prentiss, JJ, and Rossi stood behind the mirror, watching Reid and Hotch interrogate Vincent Shyer. They all knew that the reason Reid was in there was because of his mind reading capabilities, but the thought of him touching the genius made everyone's skin crawl. Reid was working him up, trying to make him angry enough to do something. Morgan growled to himself when Vincent grabbed Reid's hands, Prentiss clenched her fists and JJ ground her jaw. They were all relieved when he let go as if stung. They watched Reid and Hotch walked back into the observation room, Reid wiping his hands on his slacks absentmindedly. 

“There is an abandoned warehouse outside of town. She’s there.” He said, and they were off. 

… 

The team entered the abandoned building, wary but not expecting an Unsub to be there. This was a rescue, not an arrest. They spread out, searching for Trish. Hotch walked up a flight of precarious-looking wooden stairs. When he walked, it sounded the way the Unsub had on the phone call and he knew he was close. He saw a wooden door and approached it slowly, footsteps echoing around the abandoned space. He reached out a large hand and pushed the wooden door open. He wondered why it wasn't locked until he actually stepped in. she was there, but she was unconscious. He holstered his gun, rushing toward her despite the protest from the floor. 

Kneeling beside her, he gently checked for a puls. When he found one, he spoke into his little radio. 

“I've got her. I need a medic.” He looked back down at her. There was blood matting her blonde hair, presumably from the fight she put up when she was taken. He searched for the source of the blood, gently turning her head until he found a sizeable gash. He winced in sympathy, lifting her head into his lap. She had been drugged on the phone call, and it was safe to say there were still drugs in her system.

He sighed, knowing that what he had to do. He lifted his hand to the gash and focused. There was a yellow, soothing light emanating from his palms, which seemed to find its way to the injury. It began to close up, slowly but surely. That is, until he heard footsteps on the stairs.  He looked up to find two medics rushing into the room. He stood up and out of their way as they loaded her onto a stretcher. While he hadn't healed the head wound all the way, he did reduce the severity of her concussion. He put his hands on his hips and rolled his neck after the EMT’s were gone. He looked up and found a hole in the ceiling, where the moonlight was shining through. 

“She really could see the moon.” He said quietly to himself. He then walked down the stairs to meet up with the team he was growing closer to every day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, a pipe just broke in our house at 2 in the morning and was waterfalling through the light fixture into the kitchen and through the basement, flooding the whole house. My housemates had the fucking nerve to stand there and video as water poured out of the light above me and I panicked and tried to catch the falling water with a trash can. While we wait for a repair person, here is a new chapter :)


	15. Chapter 15

Hotch and Rossi sat across from each other on the jet, talking quietly. Most of the team was asleep, sans Morgan, who was listening to music on his iPod. Hotch was doing paperwork, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to his elbows. 

“You know, the worst part of being a team leader is all the paperwork,” Hotch remarked, not looking away from the said paperwork. “Especially when we do something ‘unorthodox’.

“It was so much easier when we didn't work in teams. Like a ‘look out for yourself’ type deal.” Rossi said, taking a sip of his scotch. 

“I'm not sure I would prefer working alone,” Hotch said thoughtfully, finally putting his pen down and looking at the older profiler. 

“Oh?” Rossi inquired. Hotch nodded. 

“It sounds… lonely. Especially with all the traveling, we do.” 

“I guess you have a point there. I always had Jason to work with, even if he is a pain in the ass sometimes.” He said fondly. 

“I'm sure he would say the same about you.” Hotch quipped, a smile tugging at his mouth. “Your arguments are rumored to have been legendary.” 

“He was just stubborn. Always convinced he was right.” Rossi shook his head and chuckled. “But I guess he would say the same about me.” Hotch nodded. He got back to his paperwork, wanting to get the majority of it done before they got back to Quantico. Rossi wondered what it would be like if Jason were on the team instead of Section Chief. While he and Reid seemed to be close, he didn't think that his friend would work well with more than two people. Then again Rossi hadn't thought he would work well with a team either, and he hadn't, at first. He had an independent streak a mile long and thought that a team would only slow him down. It took a few cases, but he warmed to the group of people he spent most of his time with, eventually. 

… 

Garcia was walking up to her apartment building, texting Morgan. She was distracted and didn't notice when footsteps sounded behind her. She was on the steps of her building when she heard an unfamiliar voice behind her. 

“Penelope!” It was the voice of a man, not deep but not high pitched either. She turned and noticed that he was extremely handsome, with blond hair and blue eyes. She smiled slightly. 

“Yes?” She asked. He returned her smile, which was probably the main reason she was so shocked when he pulled out a handgun.  She gasped as he aimed it at her. 

“The BAU will fall.” He said as he pulled the trigger. Pain exploded in her left shoulder and everything went white. She noticed that she was laying on the cold steps,  _ why am I laying down?  _ She wondered as she heard footsteps approaching. She stayed absolutely still, not even breathing for fear that this man would finish her off. The footsteps were too close when they stopped. He just stood next to her for a minute and walked back out of the courtyard. She let herself pass out from the pain and her last thought was  _ the BAU will fall? Is the rest of the team okay?  _ And then she was floating in painless oblivion. 

… 

Morgan and JJ got into Morgan's car and idled there for several minutes, Morgan texting Garcia. She didn't respond for and he brushed it off, starting his car. He had to drop JJ off at her apartment before he could get home, but he didn't mind. They chatted about idle things for most of the drive until JJ looked into the rearview mirror for the second time in as many minutes. 

“Morgan, I think that car is following us.” She said, squinting and trying to read the plate number. Suddenly her phone went off and she looked down. It was a text from an unknown number. “The BAU will fall?” She read aloud, confusion making it sound like a question. Morgan looked over. 

“What?” He asked. He didn't get an answer, because the car that they suspected was following them rammed into them from behind. “What the Hell?” Morgan shouted angrily, trying to gain control of the wheel. They were beginning to swerve despite Morgan’s attempts and the car rammed them again. JJ screamed, dropping the phone as the car went flying off the road.

… 

Prentiss walked into her apartment and immediately went to her bedroom. She fell into bed, clothes and all. She was faintly aware of her cat, Sergio, curling up next to her. She smiled and kicked off her boots, which hit her wood floor with a thud. She figured that she could shower and get dressed in the morning. Her eyelids felt heavy like anvils and she soon drifted off into blissful slumber. 

Prentiss was woken by Sergio, who was meowing and pawing at her face. She frowned. He had food in his bowl when she fell asleep, didn't he? She lifted her eyes, and they stung. She began coughing, still dazed from her brief sleep. What was happening? She looked around, and her eyes widened. Her apartment was filled with smoke. She instinctively brought her arm up to her face when she started coughing again. 

She looked over ar Sergio, who was looking at her expectantly. She rolled off the bed and onto the floor, army crawling her way out of the room. She made it to her front door, where the smoke seemed to be coming from. She tentatively touched the door, noting that it wasn't hot. So, the smoke was probably coming from the lower levels and filtering up to her. The air was clearer form the floor, but she could feel the smoke taking effect. She tried to open the door and found that it was… locked. From the outside. There was no way that was accidental. She cursed and crawled to the balcony, sucking in the fresh air once she stepped out the door. Well, relatively fresh air, considering there was still smoke. She looked down and cursed again. All of the levels below her were on fire. There were fire trucks and crowds of people down on the street. She looked at Sergio, who was now next to her. She was aware the could shift into a bird or something and fly away, but she would be leaving her cat to die. She couldn't do that, he just saved her life. Then, an idea sprung into her head, and she knew it might get her killed. But she had to do something.

… 

Reid walked down the street, enjoying the night air. He adjusted his purple scarf as he walked. He looked around, the street was well lit, but there were very few people around. His phone went off and he looked down. He felt someone walk into him, shoulder checking him. 

“Watch it.” The man said gruffly in a deep baritone. Reid frowned, looking at the retreating figures back. 

“Sorry.” He mumbled though the man was out of earshot. He turned to start walking again but stumbled. He blinked as the world began to tilt, and he stumbled forward, trying to grab onto a bench for support. He missed it, instead falling on the cold pavement. He blinked up at the dark sky. He felt out of it, his mind working at the pace of a snail. The only coherent thought he could muster was  _ what's going on? _ His vision was fading in and out, and it felt like his body was vibrating.

He felt like he was going to be sick, but he couldn't move at all. His limbs were too heavy to move. _Why and I trying to move?_ He wondered idly. And then he noticed something was off. He couldn't _feel_ anything. There were no emotions for him to feel out, but there were always emotions, even if there were no people around. So, were they really not there or could he just not feel them? He looked to the side and tried to move a small rock sitting next to him. It didn't budge, no matter how hard he focused. He startled when he realized there was someone kneeling next to him. _When did he get there?_ His brow furrowed as he tried to voice the question and nothing happened. 

“The BAU will fall.” It was the same guy that bumped into him earlier. That felt like years ago, but his logical mind told him he couldn't have been laying there for more than two minutes. Why hadn't he felt the man approach? He was so confused. Wait, what did he mean by ‘The BAU will fall’? The man put something into his left pocket, it felt like a piece of paper. 

“It’ll be over soon.” The man said, patting his cheek before standing. He walked away and Reid's entire world went dark. 

… 

Hotch and Rossi walked out of the bar they had been having a drink in. It was one of those fancy places Rossi liked, filled with cigar smoke and relaxing music. 

“See, a good drink-” Rossi was saying when there was an ear-splitting explosion. Hotch felt both him and Rossi flying through the air and one of his shields deploying. It was like a golden sphere encompassing both himself and the older profiler. He had no idea what happened after that because everything went dark. 

… 

Gideon sat in his office, reading through files. He had a bad feeling all of a sudden, and he knew something would happen. He needed to check on Aaron Hotchner's team. Warn them, something was about to happen. Before he could do anything, his office phone rang. He looked down at it, knowing he needed to pick up yet not wanting to know what the person on the other end would say. He picked it up, but before he could say anything there was a chilling voice on the other end. 

_ “The BAU will fall.”  _ was all he said, and then he was gone. Gideon numbly put down the phone. What happened to his team?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a new computer :)


	16. Chapter 16

Gideon called Hotch first, knowing he was the most likely to pick up. It rang out and went to voicemail. Next was Rossi, with the same result. He tried Garcia, knowing that if anyone could track down the rest of the team it would be her. She went straight to voicemail, which was always a bad sign. He dropped his head for a moment. He would never forgive himself if the quirky tech got hurt because he made her join the BAU. His heart nearly stopped when he thought about Reid. The man he was mentoring, that was more like a son, where was he? He rapidly typed in his number, and let out a shuddery breath when there was no answer. He called JJ, then Morgan. Neither of them answered and he shook his head before dialing Prentiss. His eyes widened when she picked up. She was coughing. 

“Gideon.” She said. “My building is on fire.” His heart rate picked up. 

“Where are you?” He asked. 

“On my balcony.” 

“Get out of there!” He nearly shouted. 

“Don't you think I tried that? The door is locked and I live on the sixth floor.” She snapped back, coughing. “I was about to try something that might get me out of here.” 

“Then why aren't you doing it?” He all but growled. 

“Well, it might get me killed, so I'm sort of hesitant.” She said

“You have no other ideas? Maybe, I don't know, one that won't get you killed?” He asked though he knew she would only do something risky as the last resort.

“I'm going to scale the building with my claws.” She said, deadpan.   
“You're what?” He asked. 

“You heard me.” She said snappily. He sighed. 

“I don't know if-” He began, but she cut him off. 

“I have a better chance of survival of I do this. I really don't feel like asphyxiating or burning to death.” and with that, she hung up on him. He looked at his phone for a minute longer before he stood up. He grabbed his coat and made his way to Prentiss’s apartment building. 

… 

“... pressure dropping…” 

“... losing her. Start…” 

“... too much blood…” Garcia floated in and out of consciousness. Snippets of phrases reached her ears and she never really processed them. She was jostled out of unconsciousness once again, but this time she opened her eyes. This was the most lucid she had been since she was shot. She squinted as the bright white lights blinded her, and sudden noise flooded her senses. There was pain, so much pain. She whimpered as the darkness took her again. The surgeon looked up as her patient was wheeled into the room. Everyone was shouting. It didn't look good. The bullet was close to her heart. She sighed and got to work. 

… 

Morgan opened his eyes, vision slightly blurry. He blinked and looked around. The interior of the car was destroyed, bent metal, shattered glass, blood matted blonde hair… JJ! He gasped as what happened earlier came back to him. He knew he couldn't be badly hurt, but his head was killing him. He was more worried about JJ. She had a head wound that was bleeding profusely from where her skull connected with the window. He leaned over, releasing himself from his seatbelt. He was now able to move freely and got closer to JJ. He checked her over, noting that she might have a few cracked ribs in addition to her head wound, some scrapes, and bruises. 

“JJ.” He said, his voice hoarse. She didn't stir. “Jennifer.” He said, louder this time. She moaned and mumbled something incoherent. Red and blue lights were now flashing outside and Morgan sighed in relief. A paramedic looked in with a flashlight. 

“Hello?” He asked. 

“In here. We’re FBI, my partner is injured.” Morgan said. JJ’s side door was opened- or, more accurately pried off. Her seatbelt was cut and she was loaded onto a stretcher. The same procedure was followed with Morgan soon after and they were both on the way to the hospital.

… 

Rossi looked around and noticed that everything was on fire.  _ That's strange.  _ He thought. Then everything came back to him and he sat up abruptly. Aaron laying a few feet away from him, unconscious. He thought it was strange that he was completely uninjured, maybe a little sore, but otherwise fine. He knelt next to the younger man, checking first for a puls. He let out a sigh of relief when he found one, strong and steady. There were no apparent injuries, so why wasn't he awake. Rossi tapped his face lightly, and his brow furrowed slightly. Rossi shook his shoulder. 

“Aaron. Wake up.” He said. His ears were ringing loudly. Aaron mumbled something and opened his eyes. It took a moment for them to focus, and he remembered what happened. 

“Are you okay?” Hotch asked, sitting up swiftly. He regretted it immediately when his head spun.

“I'm fine. What's wrong, where does it hurt?” Rossi asked, assuming that the wince was from pain. Hotch shook his head. 

“I wasn't hurt. I expended too much energy too fast.” He explained. There were no other people around and Hotch knew that anyone who had been in that bar was surely dead. Hell, they would have been dead if Hotch couldn't create shields. Well, Rossi could have phased to avoid injury but that wouldn't have done much for Hotch. There were sirens n the distance and Hotch hoped that they got there soon. 

… 

Reid opened his heavy eyes when he heard someone talk to him. He looked up and into the face of a concerned looking woman. She was on the phone with someone. 

“He’s awake.” She told the person on the other end. She listened for a moment. “What's your name?” She asked. He opened his mouth to say something and coughed up blood. Her eyes widened. 

“Poison.” He coughed out. 

“Are you telling me you were poisoned?” She asked and he nodded. That was what he had deduced, at least. She repeated it to the person on the other end. 

“FBI.” He coughed up more blood. He knew he would die soon if he didn't get medical attention. He lifted a too heavy arm to grab his badge out of his pocket. He clumsily handed it to her. 

“His name is Dr. Spencer Reid, he’s an FBI agent.” She told the person, who he was assuming was a 911 dispatcher. There were sirens now approaching and he was tempted to let himself drift off. “Hey, hey, Spencer, look at me.” She said. He wasn't even aware he let his eyes close. He looked at her and she smiled. She had dark hair and blueish green eyes. He skin was pale and she was very attractive. He could now see the lights that came with the ambulance. Spots danced in front of his eyes once again and he was pulled into oblivion. For once, he welcomed the inherent absence of light. 

… 

Gideon pulled up near the barricades of Prentiss’s apartment building. The fire was still blazing and it made him sick to his stomach. Getting out of the car, he scanned the crowd with his eyes. He didn't see her and his heart dropped. Did she fall? How hurt was she? He was then struck with an idea. He looked back at the building and really looked.

And there she was, clawing her way down. She was making really good time, actually, and he wondered if this was her first time trying to scale a building. He flashed his badge at the police officers at the barricade and make his way through when she was almost to the ground. She dropped the few remaining feet and landed ungracefully with a thud. She groaned. 

“I'm impressed. Do you rock climb?” He asked and she glared at him. She was sweaty and tired. 

“Yes.” She said, deadpan. He figured she did, not many people could do that, even with claws. She unzipped her jacket and just started when her cat jumped out. 

“Don't tell me that's why you wouldn't shift into a bird.” He said, disbelief coloring his tone. She ran a hand over her ponytail. 

“He saved my life. It's the least I could do,” she told him defensively as said cat crawled back into her lap. She pet him, murmuring thing like ‘Good job, Serg.’ and ‘Such a handsome boy.’ Gideon would never understand.


	17. Chapter 17

Gideon looked down at his phone when it started ringing. 

“Gideon.” He said by way of greeting. Prentiss, who was breathing through an oxygen mask, looked at him curiously. “Yes.” He said and then his face fell. “I'll be there soon.” He said, hanging up. She pulled off the oxygen mask despite the protests from the paramedic and walked over to Gideon. 

“What's going on?” She asked. He rubbed a hand over his face. 

“Reid has been poisoned. It's bad, they’re not sure he’s gonna make it.” He said quietly and began walking to his car. Prentiss followed, frowning. Was this an attack on the whole team? Gideon filled her in on what he knew so far during the drive to the hospital. As they pulled into the parking lot, his phone rang again. He reluctantly looked at the screen, hoping it wasn't the hospital calling to tell him Reid didn't make it. To his great relief, it was Hotch. 

“Hotch,” He said, relief evident in his voice. 

_ “Sorry I missed your call, Rossi and I were caught in an explosion.” _ He said. Gideon's brow furrowed. 

“Rossi is okay, right?” He asked though he knew Hotch wouldn't let anything happen to his team members.

_ “Yes.” _ He said. 

“Did you hear about Reid?” He asked, not really wanting to break the news to him. 

_ “Yes, I was informed. We’re at the hospital now.” _ Hotch said. 

“Prentiss and I just pulled into the parking lot.” 

_ “Rossi and I will meet you at the entrance,” _ Hotch said and hung up. 

They walked inside together and were shocked to see Morgan arguing with a nurse. 

“Sir, we need to make sure you aren't injured.” She was telling him. 

“I told you, I'm fine.” He said gruffly. She sighed, but he continued. “I need an update on my partner.  _ She  _ actually  _ is  _ injured.” knew he was being rude, but he honestly didn't care. 

“Morgan, what's going on?” Hotch asked as the small group approached. The nurse looked at them and threw her hand up in exasperation. She left them, deciding that none of them would accept treatment. 

“JJ and I were run off the road. She’s hurt, but I don't think there was anything life-threatening. What happened to you guys?” He asked, eyeing them. Everyone exchanged stories, and they realized there was one person unaccounted for.

“Where’s Penelope?” Morgan asked. Gideon approached the receptionist desk. She looked up to see a group of intimidating looking people and plastered on one of her customer service smiles. 

“Has a Penelope Garcia been admitted here?” Gideon asked. She typed something into the computer before looking back up at them. 

“Yes, she is currently in surgery.” She said politely, hoping that would be the end of it. The group walked to the waiting room, hoping that there would be news of their injured friends waiting for them. They walked in to find a young, dark-haired woman pacing. They all sat down to wait it out. 

About twenty minutes later, a male nurse walked in. 

“Jennifer Jareau.” He called out. The team was across the room before he even finished saying her name. 

“You're family?” He asked skeptically, giving them a look. 

“Yes,” Hotch said, deadpan. The man sighed. He told them about her condition, and that they wanted to keep her overnight because of her concussion. Prentiss and Rossi went to go see her, the rest of them staying for news on Garcia and Reid. 

About half an hour later, another doctor came with more news on Penelope. Morgan, who had been badgering any nurse that came by for information, went with him to see her. This left only Hotch and Gideon waiting for news on Reid. The pair’s worry was growing by the minute when about an hour after that another doctor came in. 

“Spencer Reid.” He called out. Hotch, Gideon and, much to their surprise, the dark-haired woman approached the doctor. 

“Who are you?” Hotch demanded when she also moved to see the doctor.

“Dr. Amanda Williams. I found him and called an ambulance, who are you?” She gave him a look. The doctor watched this exchange, looking like he would rather be anywhere else. 

“I'm his power of attorney,” Hotch said and she turned back to the doctor. 

“How is Dr. Reid?” She asked, concern in her eyes. 

“He’s… stable for now.” The doctor said reluctantly. “We do believe he was poisoned, but we are having a hard time identifying what the poison is. Until we know what it was that caused this, we can't treat him.” 

“Can I see him?” Hotch asked though it sounded more like an order. 

“He is being moved to a room, as there is nothing we can do for him until all of the tests come back. So yes, so long as you don't disturb him.” The doctor nodded and led them to the room. 

Hotch looked at Reid in the bed, pale and barely breathing, and felt a pang of guilt. The same pang he felt when he thought about the attack on the rest of the team. He sat next to the young man, Gideon sitting on his other side. The young woman was standing in the doorway, not wanting to disturb the two older men who obviously knew him well. 

“What happened?” Gideon asked, turning to her. She quickly told him what happened, and he nodded. “Thank you, for helping him.” 

“Of course.” She said seriously. “I just hope it did any good.”

… 

“I'm fine.” JJ groused. 

“Seriously, J, you need to relax.” Prentiss pushed her friend back down onto the bed. “You were just in a car crash. You have two cracked ribs and a concussion. Take it easy for a while.” 

“No one else is ‘resting.” She air quoted the ‘resting’ part. 

“Actually…” Rossi said, slightly guiltily. “You aren't the only one who was injured.” No one had told her what happened to the rest of the team yet. Her brow furrowed and she looked at them. Really looked. They looked worn out, Prentiss smelled slightly of smoke and Rossi was limping. Her eyes widened. 

“What happened?” She demanded. She was having a hard time concentrating on simple things. 

“We think this was an attack on the whole team. A bomb was set off at a bar Hotch and I were drinking in, Prentiss’s apartment was set on fire, Penelope was shot, and Reid was found passed out on a sidewalk. We aren't sure what happened to him.” Rossi explained and JJ closed her eyes, she put the heel of her hand to her head. 

“Did we catch any of the bastards?” She asked quietly. Prentiss shook her head. “That's just awesome,” JJ muttered. 

… 

Garcia woke up, still drowsy from the pain medication. She looked around and was pleasantly surprised to find Morgan sitting next to her. He looked worn out and dirty, but he was there. 

“What happened to you, my chocolate god?” She croaked. She could tell something happened just by the way he looked right now. He startled, and looked at her. 

“How are you feeling?” He asked gently. She knew he was diverting the question, but she didn't point it out. 

“Okay, I guess. I'm sure the drugs have a lot to do with that, though.” She said, and he smiled.

“Yeah, I'm sure they do. Try to get some rest, Babygirl.” She nodded and her eyes closed slowly. Her heart rate evened out and he smiled despite the dire situation.


	18. Chapter 18

Four days later, the team was out of the hospital. The poison in Reid's system was from a deadly breed of snake found in some obscure corner of the globe, resulting in the hospital having to acquire the antidote from out of the state. It took longer than the doctors thought Reid would last, but he shocked the everyone by living long enough to receive the cure and making a miraculous recovery. That is, everyone who didn't know about Hotch’s healing. Garcia was also released from the hospital, though she was to work from home until she was fully recovered. 

Most of the team now sat in the conference room, trying to find who might have a vendetta against the BAU. Fortunately, the list wasn't as long as it could have been. Unfortunately, the list was still extremely long. The problem was, they couldn't really rule anyone out at first glance. People could have been hired to attempt to kill them, so anyone that might feel wronged was on said list. They had been going through old cases for hours, adding anyone from the killers they put away to the grieving loved ones of victims to the list. The names were then sent to Garcia, who did background checks and eliminated anyone who was dead, in prison, or out of the country. Aside from that, they had nothing to got on. 

“This is useless!” Morgan said, throwing his hands up in the air. “We have nothing to go on.” 

“Well, unless something else happens, we can't make an accurate profile,” Prentiss said, sounding as exasperated as Morgan. 

“Actually, we do have  _ something  _ to go on,” Reid interjected. “We know that he targeted us for a reason. And that there is more than one person involved, whether they were hired or not.” As Reid was talking, Gideon had entered the room. 

“I have a feeling,” Gideon said once Reid had finished talking and they all knew he was referring to his precognition. “That the people who attacked you were hired.” Morgan reached over, video calling Garcia. She popped up on the screen a few seconds later, wearing pink fuzzy pajamas and braided hair. 

“You guys realize that while I am extremely talented at multitasking, I cannot do all things at once.” She said, only mild annoyance in her voice. 

“Well then, I guess it's a good thing we’re here to make your job easier,” Morgan said, smiling at her greeting. She smiled back. 

“Well then, speak and be heard, mortal.” She quipped. 

“Gideon thinks that the people who did the dirty work were hired. Look into if anyone on the list so far has made any withdrawals that could indicate they were paying off multiple mercenaries.” Reid told her. 

“If this person were paying off at least four different people to kill FBI agents, they would have to be loaded,” Prentiss said. “Paying to have one civilian killed costs more than most people can afford. Paying to have seven FBI agents killed? That is a whole other level.” 

“I'll hit you back when I got something. PG out.” She clicked a button and disappeared from the screen. JJ walked in just after Garcia signed off. 

“The card in Reid's pocket came back from the lab. There was DNA or fingerprints.” She said, sounding disappointed. Gideon grimaced before nodding and leaving the room. 

The paper Reid felt the guy slip into Reid's pocket had only said ‘ _ This will not be the last _ ’ on it. Reid figured that he was supposed to die that night, and it only bothered him when he really thought about it. Which was pretty much all the time. He resisted the urge to shudder again when she brought it up.  

“We think that the real Unsub hired people to kill us, so it was unlikely to have his DNA or fingerprints on it anyways,” Morgan said to JJ, who nodded slightly. 

“Found anything new?” JJ asked, sitting down next to Reid. Prentiss shook her head. 

“We’ve been looking into past cases, but the further back we go the less likely it seems that the people would be involved.” She said, frustration creeping into her voice. 

“Ya know if this guy is paying so much to have us killed he knows a thing or two about being inconspicuous. Since no one we’ve looked into so far has stuck out, he’s got to know that withdrawing less than fifty thousand keeps you under the IRS’s radar.” Reid said, looking deep in thought. 

“Well, anyone who is paying this much to have us killed is probably not going to be happy we’re still kicking,” Morgan muttered. Everyone had to agree with that. 

… 

“I think I got something!” Garcia popped up on the screen unexpectedly. JJ jumped slightly, looking toward the computer. Prentiss looked up, seemingly unfazed. “Dang, Reid's not here?” She asked. Prentiss chuckled. 

“Nope, just me and JJ. Why?” Prentiss said. Garcia smirked. 

“He jumps about ten feet in the air every time I pop up on the screen.” She said, sounding smug. JJ laughed. 

“Then I guess it's unfortunate that he’s out getting coffee. I would love to see that.” She said. 

“You said you have something?” Prentiss prompted, getting the conversation back on track. Garcia was back into work mode in less than a second, looking down at the computer. 

“Yes, I've narrowed the suspect pool down to three very wealthy people,” Garcia told them. 

“I'll go get the rest of the team.” JJ said, standing.


	19. Chapter 19

"I'll go get the rest of the team," JJ said, standing.

She went out into the bullpen, calling out to Morgan who was looking for something in the drawers of his desk. 

“Conference room, Garcia’s got something.” She said as she passed him on her way to grab Reid. She entered the break room to find Reid dumping most of the sugar in the building into his coffee cup. 

“Garcia has something.” She said. He nodded and made his way to the conference room with the coffee. She could practically feel her teeth rotting at the thought of drinking that much sugar in her coffee. She informed Hotch, then Rossi before making her way back to the room. She and Rossi entered together as the rest of the team settled. 

“JJ said you found something?” Hotch asked Garcia once everyone was seated. She nodded enthusiastically. 

“I've narrowed the suspects down to three people with too much money for their own good and quite a bit of suspicious activity. First, we have Anni Hiram, her husband was killed during that spree killer in New York case. Her husband made his money through possibly dubious means, but nothing was ever proven. From what I can tell, she took over where he left off but there is nothing that can prove she is doing anything illegal.” She finished her mini ramble and looked a the team expectantly. 

“Is there anything to indicate she holds the team responsible?” Prentiss asked. The clacking of keys could be heard briefly. 

“No, not really.” She said. 

“The tone of voice in the note indicates that it was written by a man. The word choice is decidedly masculine.” Reid said, shaking his head. 

“You said there were two more?” Rossi asked. She nodded. 

“Yes, next up is Misha Handley. He owns a tech company that has grown quite popular over the past few years, and when I say rich I mean like owns-half-the-Pacific-Ocean-rich. Not that he actually owns half the Ocean, but he probably could if he set his mind to it. His daughter was killed in a high profile case a few years back before this ‘branch’ of the BAU was formed. The reason I bookmarked him is that a- Gideon was working the case when his daughter was killed, and b- he has been making suspicious withdrawals from the bank for a few months now.” 

“How did he react to his daughter's death?” Hotch asked. “Was he angry, guilty, depressed?” 

“Um…” More key clacking. “It seems as though he fell into a deep depression before locking himself away and becoming a total recluse. As far as I can tell, his only connection to the outside world his wife… who just signed for divorce.” 

“That could be his trigger,” Morgan said, ready to nail this guy to the wall. 

“I don't know… The timeline doesn't quite fit, I think.” Reid countered. “Garcia, you said he was making withdraws months before the divorce?” 

“That is correct, my dear genius.” She said. 

“Well, something else would have had to be the trigger if he was our guy,” Reid said. 

“Then what's with all the money?” Morgan questioned. 

“What if… he hired a P.I. or something to find out if his wife was cheating? That could be what caused the divorce.” JJ said. She may not have been a profiler, but she could sure as Hell keep up with them. 

“What is the last suspect?” Hotch asked, not wanting to speculate until they had all the information. 

“Michael Black. He is a large business owner, and on our second case we put his brother away for the murder of three women. He paid for his brother's defense, which was not cheap and testified on his behalf. He accused the Bureau of tampering with evidence to wrongly put his brother away. These claims were proven to be false, but he still quite vocal with his opinion of the FBI and the BAU in particular.” She said, raising an eyebrow. “Sounds suspect to me.” She commented. 

“Has anything happened recently that may have been his trigger?” Prentiss asked. 

“Let's find out.” She mumbled, the clicking continued. “Oh… his brother was killed two weeks ago, shanked to death by his cellmate. That's just… ew.” She shuddered.

“We should bring him in,” Rossi said. 

“Definitely.” Morgan agreed, and they all stood, mentally preparing themselves to take down the bastard who tried to hurt their team.


	20. Chapter 20

The team was driving to Mr. Black's house, already in their protective gear. Hotch, JJ, and Reid traveled in one SUV while Morgan, Rossi, and Prentiss were in the other. 

“It is just our luck that we make a rich, revenge-driven super-enemy on our  _ second  _ case,” Morgan grumbled from the driver's seat. Rossi snorted. 

“Of course, what kind of superheroes would we be without a supervillain?” Rossi joked, smirking slightly. 

“I don't know, I think the people we go after are villain enough for me,” Prentiss said, pushing her ponytail behind her shoulder. 

“The idea of even going near this guy gives me the creeps,” JJ said to Reid, who was in the back seat. 

“Yeah, well, you're not the only one. Who really thinks they can kill seven FBI agents and get away with it?” Was Reid's response. 

“Michael Black, apparently,” Hotch muttered, his grip on the steering wheel tightening slightly. 

… 

 Night had fallen, and the team was getting ready to make the arrest. They were going for stealth, so they used lockpicks instead of ramming the heavy oak doors. The doors opened silently on well-oiled hinges, and the team, as well as SWAT, entered. 

They knew he was in the house somewhere, the lights were on and there was music playing from one of the rooms. The team didn't take time to stop and admire the opulent decorations and furnishings in the foyer. Hotch, Prentiss, and Reid went up to the large staircase with two SWAT members with each agent. They split at the top of the stairs, Hotch continuing up the second flight, Prentiss going left towards the bedrooms and Reid going right toward the study. Morgan, JJ, and Rossi stayed on the first level each of them taking a different hallway. Rossi and his two SWAT agents found themselves in the kitchen, where there was a young woman preparing Mr. Black's dinner. She startled when they came in. 

“Who-?” She began when she noticed the FBI printed on Rossi’s vest. 

“We need you to come with us,” Rossi said and she nodded quickly. The two SWAT agents cleared the rest of the kitchen and Rossi brought the cook outside with the police cars. 

JJ walked in, signaling to the SWAT agents to take both doors. They entered the dining room and looked around before declaring it clear. They continued on, JJ holding her gun at the ready as they entered the living room. There was a large flat screen T.V hanging above an eloquent brick fireplace. JJ stepped around the leather sofa and looked around. There was no one in the room and JJ said so over her radio. 

Morgan walked down a hall with multiple doors, the first was a half bathroom. The next two were guest bedrooms, which were the nicest he’d ever seen, and the last door was a boiler room. He was about to begin his walk back to the foyer when his radio crackled, and JJ said “clear.” For her section of the house. He had gotten Rossi’s clear a few minutes ago and knew he was outside with the cook. 

Hotch entered the attic of the house, which wasn't dark and musty like one might have expected. It seemed to be an office of some sort, with a desk and office chair sitting in front of the small window. It seemed well cared for, but not well used. Hotch and his agented further examined the room before declaring it clear. His radio made a noise before he heard JJ announce that both her rooms were clear. Morgan followed suit soon after. He hadn't yet heard from Reid or Prentiss and he made his way back down the stairs. 

Prentiss made her way down the hall, checking rooms as she passed by them. She was on her final room, which seemed to be the master bedroom when JJ came over her speaker. Morgan came next, and after that was Hotch. She announced her own rooms clear and made her way back down the hall when she heard Reid come over the speaker. At first, she was relieved to hear from him, until she realized he wasn't saying ‘clear’. 

“Everyone needs to get out of the house, now.” He said, his voice sounding strained. She broke into a sprint towards the study. 

Reid and his SWAT members made their way down the large hallway. One of them broke off to search a room, as did the other. He continued to the library, gun held in front of him. He slowly pushed open the door to find, much to his horror, a bomb. Next to it, stood Michael Black, holding down the detonator. He was sitting in a large office chair as if he was waiting for someone. 

“Mr. Black-” He began carefully but was interrupted. 

“I don't think you want me to put this down.” He said, and Reid's brow furrowed slightly. He could now feel his SWAT members approach. He held up a hand to signal to them to stop. “As soon as I do, we all go boom.” He said with a wicked smile that made Reid's blood run cold. 

“Mr. Black, you don't have to do this,” Reid said in the most soothing voice he could manage. He could feel that this man was unstable, and one wrong word could set him off. He held up his hands in a placating manner, stepping further into the room as he did so. 

“I know I don't  _ have  _ to.” The man said. “But I want to take as many of you with me as I can. Since I apparently failed the first time.” He sneered. Reid could feel his resolve strengthening, and he knew there was no way he would talk him out of this. 

“Everyone needs to get out of the house, now.” He said quietly, pressing down on his radio before returning his full attention to the Unsub. 

“You bastards took my brother away from me.” He growled and Reid tensed. “That is why the BAU will fall.”  He said and let his finger off the trigger. Much to his shock, nothing happened. Reid put all his focus on applying pressure with his mind to that little red button. He heard Prentiss run in behind him, all but shoving the SWAT agents out of her way. She knew what must have happened by the bomb, the look of shock and outrage on the Unsub’s face and the concentration on Reid’s. She felt a slight breeze and suddenly Morgan was beside her, he must have used his speed to get up here so quickly. Morgan took in the scene as fast as Prentiss had, and with a lot more rage. He stormed in and punched Michael Black in the face, effectively silencing the threats the man had started yelling at them. He was out cold before he hit the floor. 

The rest of the team came rushing in soon after that, and Prentiss kept them from breaking Reid's focus. Hotch walked over and calmly put his finger on the button, effectively breaking Reid’s semi-trance of concentration. 

“Hotch, what are you doing?” Prentiss demanded. He looked at her. 

“If it were to go off, I'd be in the least danger.” He explained as Reid put his hand to his aching head. Morgan dragged the unconscious Unsub with him out to the squad cars, being rougher than was strictly necessary. JJ hung up on whoever she had been speaking to. 

“The bomb squad will be here soon.” She informed Hotch, who nodded. True to what JJ had said, the bomb squad came in and took over about ten minutes later. They made everyone, except for Hotch who was still keeping it from going off, leave the house until they had the bomb defused. Hotch came out of the house unscathed soon after, and they all let out a sigh of relief. That had been close. 

… 

When the team got back to FBI Headquarters they were ambushed by an ecstatic Garcia. She ran to them as soon as they were off the elevator, heels clip clapping on the floor as she went. 

“I was so worried!” She scolded as soon as she was close enough to hear her. “No one told me a thing! But is that anything new? No.” She said, hugging them regardless of her anger, which was slowly fizzling out at seeing them unharmed. 

“I'm sorry, baby girl, we just got caught up in the moment.” He said, kissing the top of her head. 

“You got the bastard, right?” She asked. Hotch nodded. 

“Yes.” Was all he said. 

“And none of you got hurt, right?” She asked, looking at each of them. 

“Garcia we’re fine,” Prentiss said, smiling. 

“You better be.” She mumbled, making everyone smile.


	21. Chapter 21

Gideon sat up in bed with a gasp, a shout on his lips. He pushed the blankets off of himself with shaky hands and stumbled into the bathroom. He dry heaved as memories from the nightmare-  _ vision _ \- resurfaced. He knew it hadn't happened yet, and that it might not happen at all, but he couldn't get rid of that  _ feeling.  _ Maybe, had it been anyone else, but it wasn't. This was Reid, and he couldn't shove the panic down long enough to really process what he had seen. 

_ “I'm not a sinner!” Reid cried as he was struck again.  _

_ “We’re all sinners, boy.” The dark figure standing above him snarled. The scene shifted again, as they often did when he had visions.  _

_ “Choose.” The person standing above him said, monotone. Reid looked down the barrel of the gun being pointed at him, terror in his large eyes.  _

_ “I won't choose who lives, and who you slaughter like a poacher.” He said quietly, eyes flicking to something beyond the figure. The scene changed a final time and what he saw almost jolted him out of the vision entirely.  _

_ “Please, I don't want it, I don't want it,” Reid begged, shaking his head as the tourniquet was tightened around his arm.  _

_ “Shh, it's okay, it helps.” The person said and he pushed the needle into the pale skin at the crook of the young doctor's elbow. The plunger was pushed down, and Gideon was pushed out of the vision.  _

He heaved again as he recalled what he had seen, but nothing came up. He knew that he would only scare Reid, calling him in the state he was in. He stumbled back into the bedroom, grabbing his cell phone and dialing. 

_ “Hello?”  _ He serious, yet groggy voice asked. Gideon slumped slightly. 

“Hotch.” His voice sounded like he had just gotten done with a screaming match, and Hotch was instantly alert. 

“ _ Gideon? What's wrong?” _ Hotch asked, and Gideon could hear sheets rustling in the background. 

“It's Reid, somethings going to happen to him!” Gideon knew he sounded hysterical, but he couldn't bring himself to care. 

_ “Something happened to Reid?” _ Hotch asked, not letting the panic he felt seep into his voice. 

“Not yet.” He said, knowing that he was barely even making sense. 

_ “I don't understand.”  _ Hotch’s brow furrowed. 

“I had a vision. Someone got Reid, they-” He cut himself off, taking a deep breath. He then continued to tell Hotch what he had seen. 

_ “So you got nothing else? No faces or names?”  _ Hotch asked. By the end of his story, Gideon had calmed down enough to be coherent. 

“No, but I got the feeling it was more than one person.” He said, shaking his despite the fact that Hotch couldn't see him. 

_ “Well, then there’s nothing we can do right now,”  _ Hotch said, and Gideon knew he was right.  _ “Try and get some sleep. We can talk more in the morning.”  _ Hotch said, and Gideon agreed. He hung up and laid back in his bed, knowing he wouldn't be sleeping any time soon. 

… 

Reid walked into the bullpen wearing a Frankenstein mask, handing people candy as he walked by. He also had a fake noose around his neck and was holding a plastic pumpkin. 

“I'm going to kill you!” He said in a deep grumbly voice as he came up behind Morgan. Prentiss looked over and laughed as Morgan jumped. 

“Reid-” Morgan began, but Reid kept talking. 

“Happy All Hallows Eve, folks!” He said as he took off the mask with gloved hands. Prentiss took a moment to wonder how he got past security while wearing it. “It’s a paraphrase from Celtic mythology. Tomorrow night all order is suspended and the barriers between the natural and the supernatural are temporarily remoooved!” He laughed as he said the last part in a spooky voice, throwing a fake head to Prentiss, who caught it, still laughing at his antics. Morgan, on the other hand, was not amused. 

“See, that right there is why Halloween creeps me out.” He said, pointing at Reid. 

“You’re scared of Halloween?” Reid asked, trying not to smile. 

“I didn't say I was scared, I said I was creeped out.” Morgan corrected. It did sound sort of silly when you put it that way, but he stood by it. “There’s a difference there, youngster, you should look it up.” Reid nodded, somehow managing to make the action look sarcastic as he turned to his desk. 

“What creeps you out about it?” Prentiss asked from where she sat. 

“I don't know, people wearing masks? I don't like folks in disguises.” He said. 

“That's the best part about Halloween, you can be anyone you want to be,” Reid said, throwing a piece of candy at Morgan. 

“Nah, I'm pretty good just being me,” Morgan said. 

“Why do neither of those points of view surprise me?” Prentiss asked sarcastically. 

“Maybe because Reid had a magician alter ego that wore a mask on stage, and Morgan is… well, Morgan.” JJ said as she walked toward them, having heard the last part of the conversation. Prentiss snorted. 

“Oh, yeah.” She said sardonically. 

“Ya know, on the flip side, Halloween does give you an excuse to curl up with a scary movie and a little Halloween honey,” Morgan said with a wink. Both of the women pulled a face. 

“Ew,” Prentiss said. 

“Gideon wants us in the conference room,” JJ said, remembering her reason for coming to them. They all nodded. 

“A case on Halloween? This sucks.” Reid said, walking next to Prentiss, who nodded in agreement. The rest of the team was already there when Prentiss and Reid entered, and the two took a seat between Morgan and JJ. Reid could feel the anxiety and worry radiating off of Gideon but was interrupted before he could ask.

“What took you guys so long?” Morgan looked at them, amused. 

“Coffee,” Reid said simply, taking a sip of the dark liquid. 

“Of course, because what else is worth being late for?” Rossi asked rhetorically. 

“Let's get started,” Gideon said seriously, cutting off Prentiss’s reply. Hotch, who was standing at the front of the room nodded. 

“We think a shapeshifter is killing people in Oklahoma.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all :) I kind of stole the idea of this case from supernatural, but whatever.


	22. Chapter 22

“We think a shapeshifter is killing people in Oklahoma.” Everyone just blinked in surprise at Hotch’s blunt introduction. He handed the remote to JJ, who continued to tell the team about their case. 

“Four weeks ago, Celia Wake called 911 at approximately 9:00 P.M., telling the dispatcher that her husband was trying to kill her.” JJ pressed a button and the recording began playing. 

_ “911 what's your emergency?”  _ The dispatcher asked professionally.

_ “M-my husband, he has a knife. He’s trying to kill me!”  _ She said in a panicked whisper. 

_ “Where are you now, mam?”  _

_ “I'm hiding in the bathroom. I don't-”  _ She was cut off by a sudden banging on the door. 

_ “You can't hide from me, Celia!”  _ A man yelled in the background as she sobbed. There was a sudden crack and she screamed. 

_ “Hello? Can you hear me?”  _ The dispatcher continued to ask questions, that could barely be heard over pained screams. JJ stopped the audio before her screaming ended, not needing to hear any more. 

“The voice on the recording has been matched to Hal Wake, her husband,” JJ said. 

“So, what makes you think this is a shapeshifter?” Morgan asked. He was disturbed by what he had just heard but was still playing the devil's advocate. 

“Because her husband has an airtight alibi. And it happened more than once.” She clicked another button and the picture of Celia and her husband were replaced by the picture of another woman. 

“Mary Jones was stabbed to death in her home exactly a week after Celia. There is surveillance footage of her husband, Mark, leaving the house covered in blood.” she played the short video. A man walked out the front door, his white shirt drenched in red. He then walks down the empty street calmly, rounding a corner and out of view. 

“He also had an alibi, correct?” Rossi asked, and JJ nodded. 

“He was on a business trip to New York City.” She told him. “This has happened twice since then.” 

“We can debrief more on the plane. Wheels up in 30.” Hotch said, standing. 

… 

The team had briefed more thoroughly on the jet. Four women all killed by their husbands, all blonde and Caucasian, all husbands had solid alibis. 

No one said anything, but they were all curious as to why Gideon was joining them. Well, all except Hotch and Rossi, who both had a pretty good idea. It had been a while since the whole fiasco with the team being attacked, and this was by no means their first supernatural case. He didn't say why, and no one asked. Morgan and Prentiss were sent to the latest crime scene, Reid and Rossi went to the morgue, and Hotch, JJ, and Gideon left to set up at the police station. 

Prentiss and Morgan parked along the curb next to Monica and Henry Bradshaw’s house. There was police tape covering the perimeter of the house and two uniforms standing near the front door. They stepped out of the SUV and looked around. The neighborhood was nice, but not what most people would describe as spectacular. Flashing their badges at the two officers, they entered the house. It was only one story and quaint. Blood marred the off white carpet and walls, making Prentiss grimace. They made their way to the master bedroom, which was where the worst of the blood was. 

“Well, he definitely wasn't worried about making a mess,” Prentiss muttered. Morgan nodded absentmindedly. 

“Or leaving behind evidence.” He added, looking at the full fingerprint imprinted in the blood on the wall and the shoe tread on the floor. There was no way that wasn't intentional. 

“You know, everything about this scene suggests an unorganized killer, using a knife from the kitchen, not cleaning up after himself, getting caught on camera, but…” Prentiss let her sentence trail off. 

“But the less obvious things show organization.” He finished for her. “He knows when the husbands won’t be there, so he stocks them first. He doesn't leave his own fingerprints or boot treads behind. He knows the layout of the house.” Morgan shook his head. “He goes in with a plan, and he executes it with precision.” 

Reid and Rossi stood in the morgue as the M.E. pulled the sheet away from Monica Bradshaw's face. The blood had been cleaned off of her, but the stab wounds were still horrific. 

“She was stabbed twenty-two times. Definitely overkill.” Reid murmured. The M.E., an older lady with skin slightly darker than Morgan’s, nodded. 

“He kept stabbing, even after she was dead. Hit a major artery and she bled out quickly.” She informed them. “It was the same with the other three. A different knife was used each time, but they were all similar enough to cause about the same damage.” She shook her head mournfully. 

“The overkill suggests that he knew them personally,” Rossi said, his brow furrowed. 

“Or that they are surrogates for someone he knows personally. A wife or girlfriend, maybe.” Reid turned to examine the injuries closer. Rossi nodded. 

“Whichever it is, this Unsub is carrying a serious amount of rage,” Rossi said and Reid couldn't help but agree.

“Thank you for coming in today, Mr. Bradshaw,” JJ said. 

“I already talked to the police.” He said but nodded regardless. 

“I know, but we have some slightly different questions.” She said gently. 

“Okay, yeah, go ahead.” He said, blinking furiously, trying to keep the tears at bay. 

“Did your wife mention meeting anyone new recently? Or doing something she hadn't been before?” 

“She didn't mention meeting anyone, but she was a receptionist. She met new people every day.” 

“Had she been branching out? Maybe taking classes or joining a gym?” JJ pushed. His eyes seemed to light up with realization. 

“Yeah, wait, she- she joined a gym a few days before-” He cut himself off, taking a deep breath. JJ asked a few more questions before she ended the interview. 

“Thank you, Mr. Bradshaw. This was very helpful.” She said, standing from the couch they had been sitting at. He nodded, shaking her hand before leaving. She watched him go and mentally prepared herself to deal with another grief-stricken husband. Dealing with the loved ones their victims left behind was never as easy as she made it seem.


	23. Chapter 23

The team was sitting in the conference room looking over the case files when JJ walked in looking slightly frustrated. 

“I'm trying to keep the connection between the cases on the down low, but it’s a media circus out there.” She said a slight frown on her face. 

“There’s something that’s bothering me,” Morgan said, a crease between his eyebrows. “In the interviews with the families, they all mentioned that the victims and their husbands were going to marriage counseling.”  

“Lots of people go to marriage counseling,” Hotch said, not in a dismissive way, but like he wasn't sure what he was getting at. 

“I asked Garcia to check it out, see if they were all going to the same person.” 

“You said that she didn't find anything.” Prentiss pointed out. 

“Well, she actually found that they all went to different psychiatrists,” Reid said. 

“Yeah, but… if this is a shapeshifter, couldn't they be the same person?” Morgan asked. Everyone in the room paused. 

“That's… actually genius.” Rossi said as Hotch picked up his phone, hitting speed-dial.

“Hello, bossman, what can I do for you?” She asked. 

“Garcia, Morgan thinks that the psychiatrist's the victims were seeing were all our Unsub in different forms. Can you find out if the identities were fake or stolen?” Hotch said, his voice serious as ever. 

“‘If’? You doubt my abilities?” She asked, mock offended. 

“We would never dream of it, Babygirl,” Morgan assured. 

“I will dive deep, and get back to you.” 

“Thanks, Garcia,” JJ said. 

“You, my fine furry friends, are welcome.” She said, a smile curling her lips as she hung up. 

“Remind me to have her drug tested,” Hotch muttered. Rossi snorted. 

… 

“I think Morgan was on to something,” Garcia said about half an hour later. “So, get this. All except one of our fine doctors disappeared one at a time, calling families to inform them that they were taking some time and leaving the country. There is nothing to indicate that they ever came back, but here they are, counseling each of our victims a week before they are killed.” 

“You said all except one,” Reid pointed out. “Which one? Chances are, he’s our Unsub.” 

“Ah, you are a smart one, Dr. Reid. I had the same thought, which is why I can tell you that his name is Dr. Bart Schumer, he his forty-three years old, and recently divorced. Which, may I point out, is ironic considering his profession. I'm sending a picture of him and his wife to your tablets as we speak. And his address.” 

“Thank you, Garcia,” Hotch said as he picked up his tablet. 

“Any time, sir. PG, out.” 

“She remind you of anyone?” Rossi asked, holding up his tablet with a picture of his ex-wife on the screen. She had a shocking resemblance to the victims, and they all nodded. 

“JJ, Reid, go and take his wife into custody, he might be going after her next. Gideon, you and Morgan go to his work. Rossi, Prentiss, you're with me at his house.” They all nodded and collected their field gear.

… 

The sun was going down when they left the station, each going to their respective locations. It took about twenty minutes for Hotch, Rossi, and Prentiss to get to his house. They didn't take SWAT, not want to give the Unsub any more people to mimic than necessary. They all got out of the car, drawing their weapons as they neared the small house. 

JJ and Reid pulled into Mrs. Schumer's driveway. JJ turned off the car and sighed. 

“You know, I just can't imagine being told that my husband is a killer.” She said. 

“Chances are, with your profession, you would know before anyone told you,” Reid told her in that matter-of-fact voice. She chuckled. 

“Yeah, you're probably right.” She conceded, opening her door and stepping onto the cooling cement. 

Morgan and Gideon approached the large office building, both wary of anyone who took notice of them. While Gideon would know that they had powers, it was still necessary to be vigilant. 

“You sense him?” Morgan asked quietly as they entered the lobby. Gideon shook his head as they continued to make their way across the polished floor. 

Prentiss stuck the lockpick into the lock on the front door, clicking the button until the felt the mechanism turn. 

_ “You ready?”  _ Hotch asked over the radio. 

“Yeah.” She said and they simultaneously pushed the doors open. Prentiss and Rossi made their way down the hall, and Hotch went to the kitchen. 

“Hi, Mrs. Schumer?” JJ asked when a middle-aged woman with dark hair opened the door. 

“Yes?” She asked. 

“I'm Jennifer Jareau, and this is my partner, Dr. Reid, from the FBI.” They both held up their badges, and she looked between them nervously. 

“What is this about?” She asked, not rude, but obviously not happy that there were two federal agents at her door. 

“Can we come in?” JJ asked. 

Morgan and Gideon continued their walk through the lobby. Gideon tensed and Morgan’s hand went to the handle of his firearm. He was staring at the young, pretty receptionist with such intensity, that she must have felt his gaze. 

“Hi, what can I do for you gentlemen today?” She asked politely. 

Prentiss and Rossi split to search separate rooms, Rossi pulled back the shower curtain as Prentiss pushed the bedroom door open all the way. Hotch walked into the kitchen, before continuing onto the living room. He heard a crash, and someone gasped over the speaker. He ran in the direction of the bedroom. 

“I knew he was angry, but I never thought-” Mrs. Schumer cut herself off with a shake of her head. They were sitting on the couch in her living room with cups of coffee. She put her’s down with shaking hands. 

“Mrs. Schumer, we know this is hard, but we were wondering if you could answer a few questions about your husband,” Reid said softly. 

“Ex-husband.” She corrected quietly. He nodded. 

Rossi ran to the bedroom upon hearing the commotion and was soon followed by Hotch. There was a broken lamp on the floor and the window was open a crack. 

“Guys, it's okay,” Prentiss assured, her arms full of a large white cat. “I found this little guy, and he was as shocked to see me as I was to see him.” She muttered, stroking the now calm cat. 

“Prentiss, how do you know that’s not the Unsub?” Rossi asked carefully, neither man having put away their weapon. To their surprise, she chuckled. 

“Trust me, I know. I can just tell the difference between real animals and people who look like animals. Takes one to know one.” She explained as she put the purring animal on the bed. It curled up and promptly fell asleep. 

Gideon seemed to snap out of it when she spoke and shook his head as if to clear it as he pulled out his badge. 

“FBI, we need to see Dr. Schumer.” He said, and Morgan carefully followed suit. Her mouth formed a small “o” of surprise. 

“He’s not in right now, but here is his office number.” She wrote it down on a sticky note and handed it to him. He nodded his thanks, and they headed to the elevator. 

“Is that the Unsub?” Morgan asked as quietly as possible as they walked away. 

“No, false alarm. She had super speed if I'm correct.” Morgan’s brows went up. 

“Really?” He asked, and Gideon nodded. “Huh.” Was all he said. It was unexpected, but not exactly unwelcome, to know he wasn't the only one with that ability. 

There was a knock at the door and JJ stood. 

“I'll get it if you don't mind.” She said, and Mrs. Schumer nodded. She was about to open the door when Reid felt it. He jumped off the couch, drawing his weapon as he did so. 

“Go into the bedroom and don't come out, no matter what you hear.” He told her before yelling to JJ as he went running down the hall, but the door was already open. The Unsub took the form of a delivery man and had a gun pointed at JJ. She had hers pointing right back. He looked over her shoulder, eyes growing wide upon seeing another agent. He fired at Reid, JJ pulled the trigger only seconds after him, but his had already gone off. He fell to the floor, already changing back in death. JJ kicked the gun out of his hand before running to Reid. 

“Oh, my god.” She said. The shoulder of his purple shirt was darkening with his blood, despite the hand, he had clamped over the wound. She pulled out her phone, dialing 911. He looked up at her from where he was kneeling on the carpet. 

“Check on Mrs. Schumer.” He said through gritted teeth. He honestly felt like he was going to pass out from the pain, and only let a whimper escape once JJ had gone. She was back and helping him keep the pressure on the wound only a few minutes later as they waited for the ambulance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I'm mean to Reid, but I'm not really sorry :) There will be a not so new character in the next chapter, if anyone wants to guess who that will be. As always, I hope you enjoyed and I thank you for reading!


	24. Chapter 24

The team was at the hospital, anxiously waiting for news on Reid. The paramedics said that it wasn't fatal, but they needed to retrieve the bullet from his shoulder. 

“For Mr. Reid.” A man came out to the waiting room wearing scrubs, and the team rushed forward. 

“It's Dr. Reid.” Gideon corrected him. The man nodded. 

“Well, I have good news for you. He's out of surgery, and will be moved into a room soon.” The Doctor told them, and JJ could have cried in relief. “A nurse will come for you when he’s settled.”  

About twenty minutes later, a nurse came and led them to Reid’s room. 

“He’s still pretty out of it, so…” She let her sentence trail off as she opened the door. He was laying in the bed, and JJ sat on one side while Morgan sat on the other. Gideon looked like he wanted to sit near him, but leaned against the wall instead. Hotch sighed and rubbed his face. 

“I have to get back to the station and clear up paperwork.” He said, resigned. Rossi nodded. 

“I'll come with you. We need to clear out the room, and I want to fly out as soon as Reid is able.” He said. JJ, Prentiss, Morgan, and Gideon were left waiting for Reid to wake up.   

“J?” Reid mumbled, looking around with bleary eyes. Gideon had left to get some coffee from the machine, and Morgan was half asleep. 

“Spence?” JJ asked softly, though she knew he was too drugged up to  _ really  _ be awake. He frowned at her. 

“You okay’?” He slurred. She blinked, not expecting him to worry about her. 

“Um, Yeah Spence, I'm fine. I'm actually more worried about you right now.” She said and a small crease formed between his eyebrows. 

“Well,  _ someone's  _ upset.” He muttered, looking around as if he was trying to find the source of this negative energy. Prentiss, who has been watching the exchange silently, walked closer to the bed. 

“No one’s upset, Reid.” She said. He shook his head. 

“Not you.” He muttered to himself, then turned to look at Morgan. “Huh, not him either.” He said as Morgan blinked awake. 

“Hmm?” Morgan asked. “What’m I not?” He asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. 

“Shhhh,” Reid said, closing his eyes. “I'm trying to hear whose energy is sad.” Morgan looked to the two girls, but they were just as lost as him. 

“Reid, maybe-” Prentiss started to ask. 

“I  _ know  _ who she is, but… I can't- it’s like I can't remember. But that never happens.” He was talking to himself now, not even acknowledging the others in the room. JJ looked up when she saw a light go off from inside Reid’s bag of clothes. She got up and pulled his phone from his bag. He had just missed a call from Lila. There wasn't a lock on his phone, and she looked at the call history.  _ 28 missed calls?  _

“Reid, Lila-” 

“Yes! That's who it is!” He laid his head back down and the phone lit up again, with another call. JJ reluctantly answered it. 

“Hello?” She asked. 

“Where is he?” A female voice, presumably Lila, demanded.

“Lila, I'm JJ, one of Reid’s friends,” JJ said.

“Tell her to stop being so loud.” He muttered to her. “I can feel her from here.” 

“Um, I'm not sure-” She said to Reid, but was startled by the voice from the phone. 

“What do you mean you're not sure? What happened to him?” She asked, desperation and panic creeping into her voice. 

“No, I was talking to Reid. He's right here, but he said to ‘stop being so loud’ and that he could ‘feel you from here’, but he’s pretty drugged up right now, so-” JJ was getting pretty tired of being cut off. 

“Oh, Reid, I'm sorry.” She said, taking a few deep breaths. “He says that when emotions are too intense, it’s reminiscent of being in a loud, overcrowded room.” She explained as Reid seemed to become less tense. 

“Let me talk to her.” Reid muttered, and JJ gratefully handed the device over. Reid took the phone and held it to his ear. 

“Hey.” He said, and she sighed. 

“You were shot?” She asked. 

“Yeah- how did you know?” He asked, mind racing as he tried to figure out how she knew. 

“I-I dreamed it.” She whispered, and his eyes widened. There was no way that was a coincidence. “I knew it was real- I don't know how, but it was like I was there, and then you didn't answer your phone, and I though-” She cut herself off with a sob.

“Lila, I'm okay, I promise.” He said and continued to murmur comforting words until she stopped crying. 

“I'm flying out to Virginia tonight. I'm going to stay at your apartment until you get back.” She said. He sighed, knowing there was nothing he could say to change her mind. 

“There’s not much in the fridge, seeing as I'm never there.” He warned her, and he could all but hear the smirk in her voice. 

“I'm sure I'll make it work.” She said and hung up. 

“I'm sure you will.” He said to himself, looking at his screen. He still felt like he might float away at any moment due to the drugs, but he was more aware. Especially of all the other people in the room. “So, I'm sure you'll want an explanation.” He said to his teammates as the door opened and Gideon walked in. 

“Reid, you're awake.” He said in surprise. Reid perked up at the styrofoam cup in his hands. 

“Coffee?” Reid asked. Gideon took a sip and grimaced. 

“If that's what you want to call it.” He said, causing the rest of them to smile. “Now, what would require an explanation?” He asked. Reid ran his hand over his face and winced as the movement cause the stitches to pull. 

“I think Lila can dream walk.”


	25. Chapter 25

The team sat on the jet on their way back to Virginia. They had been eager to leave as soon as Reid was cleared to fly, which was sooner than anyone had originally anticipated. Reid was stretched out on the couch, reading, with his legs draped across JJ’s lap. Morgan sat on one of the chairs across from him as he tried to find a good song on his playlist. Prentiss, who was occupying the seat next to his, smiled at her cell phone. 

“Ooh, who’s the special guy?” Morgan asked as he leaned closer, hoping to catch a peak. She pulled it away from him as Reid snorted. 

“What?” Morgan directed the question at Reid but looked between them as Prentiss smirked. “What's so funny?” He asked again. 

“If we wait for him to guess, we might be here all day.” Rossin stage whispered, and Morgan glared. 

“Children, behave,” JJ said without looking up. 

“ _ She _ sure is special, Morgan.” Prentiss drawled, and realization dawned on him. 

“You're-” he cut himself off, shaking his head. “Of course you are.” 

… 

The team was filing off the plane when a rental car with tinted windows pulled up next to the government issue SUV’s. Reid smiled widely at the sight of it, knowing exactly who it would be. Not many people would rent out a car with tinted windows out of habit. 

“Lila!” Reid exclaimed as she opened the door and stepped out. She spotted him in an instant, and a huge grin broke out on her face. She pulled him into a hug, mindful of his injured shoulder. He wrapped his arm that wasn't in a sling around her waist, bending slightly to compensate for the height difference. 

“I've missed you,” she whispered into his ear before he pulled away. He realized that the team was looking at them, probably waiting to be introduced. 

“Guys, um, this is Lila Archer,” he said, motioning to her as she waved. “Lila, this is my team. JJ, Morgan, Prentiss, Rossi, Hotch, and Gideon.” 

“It's nice to meet you all.” She said sincerely. It was nice to finally meet the people she had been hearing so much about. Just then, the passenger door opened and Garcia stepped out. Reid blinked, not sure that he was seeing right. 

“You're okay!” She cried, pulling him into a hug. He barely suppressed a wince that the sudden movement caused. 

“What are you… why are you two…?” He couldn't quite articulate the question, but Lila knew what he meant. 

“She is as great as you described.” She said, and Penelope beamed. “She heard that I was on my way, and she found my flight number  _ and  _ my phone number with her hacker skills so she could pick me up and bring me here.” 

“Oh, wow, thank you, Garcia.” Was all he could think to say. It was just such a  _ Garcia  _ thing to do. 

“I just  _ had  _ to meet her, you know? The way you described her, I just knew we would be awesome friends.” 

“ _ And  _ you wanted to meet a Hollywood actress.” Morgan teased with a smirk, and she pushed his arm. Gideon moved forward to stand in front of Lila, tilting his head slightly. 

“I'm having a hard time pinning down what exactly your power is.” He said and held out a hand. “May I?” He asked, and she nodded, glancing at Reid for a split second.

“Yeah, go ahead.” She permitted. He took hold of her hand for a second before releasing it. 

“You were close Reid, but not quite right. She can actually astral project.” He informed them. She blinked. 

“Care to explain?” She asked in the wake of his semi-dramatic announcement.  

“Astral projection or ‘astral traveling’ is a term used to describe the phenomenon that occurs when a person wills their consciousness to leave their body while still tethered to their physical form. There are many theories as to why this is possible, but as far as we-” He stopped when she poked his face. He blinked and looked at her. “I was rambling?” He asked and she nodded. 

“A little.” She chuckled. 

“Is it safe?” JJ asked. 

“Well, he hasn't spontaneously combusted yet-” Prentiss said, but JJ cut her off. 

“No, I mean is astral projection safe?  It sounds like you could just kind of… float away.” 

“It’s as safe as any of our powers are. You can't ‘float away’ because you are tethered to the energy your body gives you. As far as I'm aware, you can't cross oceans in your astral form because you would be cut off from your energy source.” Reid said. 

“So… I can leave my body and walk around?” She asked. 

“Essentially? Yes.” 

“Sounds like a cool power to have,” Morgan commented as he walked towards one of the SUV’s. “Who’s riding with me?” 

As the team separated into the groups that they would be riding with (Morgan, Rossi, and JJ in one, and Hotch, Gideon, and Prentiss in the other, with Reid and Garcia riding with Lila.) Gideon walked with Reid near the back of the group. He set a hand on Reid’s shoulder, and Reid spun around. 

“No.” He said with finality. Gideon had forgotten that Reid could read minds if touched, and quickly backtracked. 

“Reid, it's not-” 

“You will not even  _ try  _ to recruit her.” He growled, and Gideon was taken slightly aback by the fierceness. “She is not cut out for this work, and her acting background would not ‘make her perfect for undercover work.’” he quoted Gideons stray thought. 

“Okay.” He said simply. He wouldn't fight the young agent on this. Yet. Reid nodded, satisfied with the answer, and got into the car. He didn't need precognition to know that convincing Reid to let him talk to her about would not be easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Just an FYI, I don't like Gideon much at all as a character. I really only meant for him to be in the story for the first few chapters, but he kind of took on a life of his own. That doesn't mean he's going to be evil in this story or anything, but my bias might show a little. Thank you to all who have read, given kudos, or commented!


	26. Chapter 26

Reid was still silently fuming when he and Lila got back to his apartment later that night. Gideon had been  _ way  _ out of line, and he knew it. He knew that Reid didn't want Lila to feel pressured into anything and that he didn't want her doing this job the rest of her life. She was happy with her acting career, and he wanted it to stay that way until she wanted to change it. 

Lila could tell he was seriously pissed off, and let him cool off by talking with Penelope until they dropped her off at her apartment. 

“Spencer, what did he say to you?” Lila asked once they were in the apartment. It was a nice place, spacious and modern, but still homey. 

“He didn't have to  _ say  _ anything.” He muttered. Despite the slightly cryptic answer, Lila knew what he meant. 

“Well, what was he thinking?” She corrected. 

“It's nothing-” He started and she shook her head. 

“You wouldn't be this mad if it was just nothing.” She stated with confidence. 

“He just-” Reid stopped mid-sentence and heaved a breath. “He wants to recruit you.” This shocked her slightly. Why would he want that? “I know that you don't really want to be an agent, but I don't want you to feel pressured or anything. I also don't want you to think that I want you to be an agent. Not that I don't want to work with you, but I don't want you to see the things that I see every day.” He stumbled over a few of his words, but she knew he meant what he said. 

“Spence, you don't have to worry about that.” She assured him. He nodded as he walked into the kitchen. Most of his appliances were stainless steel, (which was a feature Lila had insisted he have when looking for a potential apartment, even though he didn't see the point). 

“You  _ really  _ don't have any food in your house, do you? Mrs. Gonzales would be ashamed.” She said, pawing through his cupboards. He rolled his eyes at the mention of his housekeeper, and she continued. “Do you even eat when she’s not around? I swear you've lost weight if that’s even possible.” She looked over her shoulder to give him an appraising look, and he frowned at her. 

“Yes, I eat.” He informed her indignantly. “My teammates make sure of  _ that _ .” He thought back to all the times JJ would scold him in a restaurant for not eating all of his food, or Garcia would try to force feed him cookies, or Morgan would insist that he gained all his nutrition from coffee and sugar alone. She snorted. 

“They seem like the type.” She told him. 

“What type?” 

“The type that looks after each other.” Well, she had that right. Before he could respond to her assessment, she continued. “So, what takeout places are good around here? Looking at the state of your kitchen, I have a feeling you would know.” 

… 

Prentiss walked into her apartment, locking the door behind her. She had rented a new apartment with a better security system after almost being burned to death in her last one. 

“Honey, I'm home!” She called, and Sergio came running down the hall. She flashed straight white teeth at him as he curled around her legs. There was the sound of slippers coming from the kitchen and Abigail, her girlfriend, walked into view. Her long blond hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and she was dressed in pajamas. 

“You know, I feel like you like that cat more than you like me.” She joked, and Prentis laughed. 

“I've missed you.” She said as she walked toward her, pulling her into a tight hug and dropping a kiss on her cheek. She was only about 5’6 and Emily, who was already taller than her, was wearing heels. 

“Hard case?” Abigail asked without pulling away. She felt Emily nod. 

“You have no idea.” She said, letting out a slightly shuddery breath. The blond pulled away and grabbed her hand, pulling her girlfriend to the kitchen. She put a warm coffee mug into her hands before sitting down. 

“Tell me about it.” She requested, crossing pajama-clad legs over one another. She already knew about what she and her team did, and that she could shapeshift. 

“They all-” She cut herself off. Abigail waited patiently. “They all reminded me of you.” She whispered. “And they were all killed by a shifter.” Abigail finally understood. Emily often struggled with the idea that thinking like these killers made her not so different than them. 

“Baby, you would never-” Emily shook her head. 

“I know, but… it was just a lot.” Abigail pulled her into a hug, now on the same level that they were sitting down. 

“I know, Emm, I know.” She murmured. Prentiss was struck by just how lucky she was, that her girlfriend hadn't been living with her when her apartment went up, that she stayed with her upon learning about her power, that she loved Sergio, that she loved  _ her.  _

“I love you, you know that?” She affirmed, her voice muffled by the fabric of Aby’s robe. She chuckled. 

“But of course, how could you not?” Prentiss had to agree with that. 

… 

JJ walked into her small house and put her purse down on the table. She thumbed through the mail in her hands as she turned on the lights in the kitchen. She set the mail down, about to pull her phone out of her pocket when she heard a floorboard creak behind her. Before she could turn, harms wrapped around her waist. Her eyes widened, and she spun, breaking the loose hold and punching the man behind her in the nose. 

“JJ!” He yelled in a deep southern accent, stepping back and out of her range. She blinked, realizing who it was standing there. 

“Will?” She asked. “What the Hell!” She fell out of her fighting stance, and he relaxed slightly. “You didn't think to tell me you were here before you sneak up on me like that? You scared the crap out of me!” 

“I texted you that I would be here!” He said, holding his now bloody nose. 

“No, you didn't!” She then realized, “My phone is dead.” 

“Well, geez, if I had known that…” He trailed off, and they were both quiet. “I'm sorry.” 

“No, Will, I'm sorry, I'm just…” 

“On edge?” He asked, and she smirked. 

“How’d you guess? Come on, let me help you clean that up.” She said in regards to his still bleeding nose. 

After a brief examination, she told him it wasn't broken. 

“So, why  _ are  _ you here?” She asked once they were settled on the couch.

“Well, I got some time off work and I knew that you were getting off a case, so I thought it might be nice to come see you.” He explained. They had met on a case in Louisiana, a woman had been leaving notes like Jack the Ripper at her crime scenes. 

“Well, despite the rough start, I'm glad you came.” She said, leaning on him. He smiled. 

“Yeah, I am too.” 

… 

Hotch knocked on the front door and waited patiently. The porch light was on and he was sure she wasn't asleep- he had told her he was coming soon. 

“Aaron!” She said before the door was fully open. 

“Hi, Beth.” He said, smiling. She pulled him into a quick hug before opening the door more to allow him to enter. He wasn't really living with her, but they spent alternating nights at each other's houses. 

“I thought you would be on the case longer.” She said, a slight inflection in her voice. He nodded. 

“I did too, honestly, but I'm glad I’m not.” He said, leaning in a kissing her. She smiled against his lips. 

“Hmm, me too.” She hummed. 

… 

Penelope sat on her couch, flipping through channels and considering rewatching Dr. Who when there was a knock at her door. Her brow furrowed slightly. She didn't think she was expecting anyone. The knock came again, and she got up. She looked through the peephole and smiled as she opened the door. Derek, who had his arms full of grocery bags, beamed back at her. 

“What's up, Babygirl?” He asked as he walked in. 

“Nothing much, my Chocolate God, just waiting for you to bless me with your presence.” He put the bags down on her counter and pulled out the popcorn, an assortment of candy, and three movies. She laughed. “You do know how to spoil me.” 

“Well, you deserve it.” He said, and she smiled wider. She never realized how terrible Shane had been to her until Morgan had first shown up at her apartment with snacks and movies. He was better, and they weren't even dating! So she just basked in the attention, knowing that he would always be there for her. 

… 

Rossi and Gideon sat in his mansion, talking over scotch. 

“Do you remember that time… in upstate New York? When it was snowing and we had to take sleds everywhere?” Gideon asked, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“And that kid dared us to take his sled down rattlesnake hill?” He asked, a chuckle escaping. 

“You went flying down that hill so fast, I could have sworn-” 

“Wait,  _ you  _ were the one that went down the hill!” Rossi corrected. 

“What? Are you sure?” Jason asked, feigning confusion. 

“Yes, I'm sure. Losing your memory in your old age, Jason?” He quipped. Gideon laughed. 

“Nope, sharp as ever.” He laughed. Rossi just shook his head. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I did not have a plan for this while writing but I was not expecting that. It just kinda wrote itself. As always, thank you to all who read, gave kudos, or commented!


	27. Chapter 27

 Rossi walked into Hotch's office, and Hotch looked up from his paperwork. 

“You got a second?” he asked after rapping his knuckles on the edge of the doorframe. 

“Yeah, what is it?” Hotch asked. 

“A case just came in,” Rossi informed him. 

“I'll be right there,” he told Rossi, standing. Rossi shook his head. 

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you. It's on Commack, Long Island.” 

“That's your hometown,” Hotch observed, brow furrowing slightly. 

“Yeah… and if it's okay, I'd rather stay behind.” 

“Why?” Hoch asked, wondering if there was something he needed to know. 

“That was a different life, one I left thirty years ago. I'm in no hurry to go back.” He explained, and Hotch nodded in understanding. 

“Well, any other day I'd tell you to stay, but I just became aware of this…” He handed Rossi a folder. Rossi looked at it, and nodded, handing it back. 

… 

“What have we got?” Hotch asked as he and Rossi entered the conference room, where the rest of the team was already waiting. JJ stood to present the case. 

“Ben Vanderwaal was found dead in his home in Commack, Long Island last night. He was shot at close range last night once in the heart, once in the head, 22. caliber shell.” The rest of the team followed along on their tablets. 

“They found hair and blood traces from Vanderwaal's wife Heather.” Morgan read off the screen, and JJ nodded. 

“But not Heather?” Rossi asked. 

“No, she is still missing and presumed dead. The caliber and placement of the bullets match that of two previous victims. The first, Rita Haslat, she went missing eight months ago from her home in New Jersey. Four weeks later, she was found in a trash bin.” 

“She went from that to  _ this  _ in under three weeks?” Prentiss asked doubtfully. “She’s totally emaciated.” 

“Ligature marks on her wrists and ankles indicate that she was constrained,” Reid observed. 

“One in the heart, one in the head- just like Vanderwaal,” Morgan said. 

“Sounds more like an execution,” Hotch said grimly. 

“Then why cut off Vanderwaal’s hand's post mortem?” Reid questioned. 

“What about the third victim?” Rossi asked. 

“Bill Levington,” JJ said. “His appearance was… clearly altered.” 

“His genitals were missing,” Prentiss said, frowning. 

“Thought the method of mutilation is different in each crime, clearly there’s a signature. The question is, what?” Hotch said. “Wheels up in twenty.” 

“What's this?” Reid asked, reaching out to grab the folder that was tossed in front of him with the arm that wasn't in a sling. 

“You told me you were clear to fly. You lied.” Hotch told him, giving his younger colleague a look that dared him to argue. 

“Naughty boy,” Prentiss said with a shake of her head. 

“Uh, no, I didn't.” Reid floundered for an excuse. “I am a doctor, so  _ technically  _ it wasn't a lie.” 

“Yeah, what was it then?” Garcia asked from the doorway. 

“Um… a second opinion?” He said innocently. 

“Huh. You're my bitch now.” She said. Morgan laughed as he went to gather his things and Reid resigned himself to his fate. 

… 

The team had briefly discussed the case on the jet and were now setting up in town. Prentiss and Hotch had gone to the crime scene, while JJ had gone straight to the station. Morgan and Rossi had gone to the coroner. 

“There was no sign of forced entry.” The lead detective was telling them as they entered the house. 

“It says in the file that Heather Vanderwaal has a daughter. Where is she?” Prentiss asked. She moved to San Diego to live with her real father.” The detective said. “Ben and Heather Vanderwaal have only been married for a few years.” 

“So Heather came in, dropped her shopping bags, cell phone, and keys, but not her coat. She turns on the lights but they don't work.” Hotch said, walking toward the room where Mr. Vanderwaal was killed. 

“Because the phone and electricity were cut.” The detective said. 

“Something in this room caught her attention,” Prentiss said, looking around. Hotch walked further into the room and looked down at the pool of blood on the floor. The markings looked like… 

“What is it?” The detective asked. 

“The marks in the blood look like a camera tripod.” Hotch pointed. Upon the Detectives confused and slightly disgusted look, Prentiss explained. 

“Killers, especially sexual sadists like to document their kills.” 

“But sexual sadist tortures their victims while they're still alive,” Hotch said as a phone rang. 

“Oh, excuse me.” The detective said, taking the call. When he returned, he looked between the agents. “Heather Vanderwaal was just found. Alive.” 

… 

Reid and Garcia sat in her office, researching and digging up dirt on the Vanderwaals. 

“Do you ever feel… creepy, when digging up the victim past like this?” Reid asked. She turned to look at him. 

“All the time.” She said, amazed that she wasn't the only one. “Morgan always tells me I'm being ridiculous.” 

“Seriously? Well, he's obviously never tried it.” Reid muttered. Just then, there was a knock at her office door, and Garcia opened the door to reveal Lila. 

“Lila!” Reid said, lighting up like a Christmas tree upon seeing his best friend. She smiled back as she stepped in. 

“It's so cute when you guys do that.” Garcia squealed, and Reid frowned. 

“Do what?” He asked. 

“When you see each other and get all excited even though you no doubt saw each other this morning.” She said, and Reid's brow scrunched up slightly. Well, yeah. She was the best, how could he not be happy to see her?

“I brought takeout.” She said, holding up the bags of food. Reid hadn't noticed how late it had gotten. Was it noon already? “And yes, you will be eating.” She said, raising an eyebrow at Reid. He resisted the urge to groan. He could only pray that she and Garcia never teamed up. 

… 

They were on the phone with JJ, who was interviewing the widow. 

“Garcia,” They heard her say on the other end of the phone. Reid picked up one of Garcia’s toys and started playing with it. She quickly reached over and plucked it out of his hand, making Lila snort. 

“We’ve been getting to know Heather Vanderwaal, I cat tell you her favorite Beatle, but I can tell you that she was living la Vida unhappy.” 

“What did you find?” She asked. 

“Her ex-husband took her daughter, Allison, out of school midterm. After that, Heather cut a check for $5,000 to a place called Lewis, Bell, and Peters six days ago.” Reid explained. 

“A law firm?” 

“Family law,” Garcia said, taking one of her trolls from Reid again. 

“Thanks,” JJ said and hung up. She looked back to the woman she was interviewing. 

“Mrs. Vanderwaal… at mid-term you took your daughter, Allison, out of school?” 

“Yes, I did.” The woman said, nodding. 

“After that, you filed for divorce from Ben,” JJ said. “This man left you alive for a reason, and I need to know if these two things are connected.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I pretty much just stole this whole chapter from the show, so sorry. I feel like I want to start a series of one-shots in this super BAU 'verse, some scenes that don't fit into the series very well. Maybe take some requests or something? I don't know, just an idea. On another note, I WILL NOT be pairing Reid and Lila in this story! sorry to those of you who ship them, but its a no-go for me. As always, Thank you to all who read, left kudos, or commented, and I hope you enjoyed!


	28. Chapter 28

The team regrouped back at the station, going over the information they had found. 

“If anyone had a motive to kill Ban Vanderwaal, it was Heather’s ex-husband.” 

“But he was in San Diego, and has no connection to the other two victims.” Hotch countered, but the detective was no longer listening. 

“David Rossi, we finally get to meet, Detective Hardesty. Very, very nice to have you with us,” Rossi shook his hand, not exactly enthusiastic with how, well,  _ enthusiastic  _ fans were to meet him. Getting down to business, Morgan, and Rossi revealed that the victims were all professional hits. Rossi suggested that he “Hit on some old contacts, alone,” leaving his teammates wondering. 

… 

Rossi walked into the near-empty bar, catching the attention of a dark-haired fellow with a thick Irish accent. 

“We don't open till 5:30.” The man told him. Rossi nodded. 

“I'm looking for the owner of that coat,” He said, and the man narrowed his eyes, standing to check him for weapons. 

“Not with that, you're not.” He growled as he pulled the federally issued weapon from the agent's coat. “Check out the front and back.” He ordered the two goons, holding Rossi’s own gun on him and eyeing him suspiciously. “Now you're either a dead man or a cop, which is it?” 

“Right now, I'm just an old friend,” Rossi replied coolly.

“You gave up that right the day you became a fed,” The man behind him said. 

“Ray?” 

“David.” The man in question said. Rossi knew that getting this man’s help was not going to be a walk in the proverbial park. But, in his profession, what was? 

… 

The team had set up a meeting with  _ Bosola.  _ Though, as Rossi had predicted, it hadn't been easy. It took a little cajoling, a little threatening, and a little bribing, but he got information and a meeting with the apparently infamous “ghost”. 

“If we’re not careful, I'm going to end up like the Dutchess.” His old friend had only half-joked, referencing the play Bosola based his name off of. He now sat in his restaurant, waiting for his guest to show and trying to figure out his daily crossword. 

“Hey, that kid, the smart one. I could use a little help,” Ray said into the phone, referring to the crossword in his hand. 

“Reid,” Rossi said. 

“Reid, here,” Reid said in that dorky way, that made Lila roll her eyes. He was  _ such  _ a nerd. 

“Crossword question,” Ray said, “Ten letters, crater creator.” Lila and Penelope both perked up at the same time when Reid’s brow furrowed as he searched his brain for the word that fit such a description. 

“Arctangent,” Garcia said, smirking as Reid pouted slightly and muttered something about visual cues working better with his memory. 

“Damn, she’s smart.”

… 

In the end, Ray did end up like the Dutchess as he had so eloquently put it. The hitman had gotten the drop on them, and gotten away. Though Rossi would never admit it, he was deeply mourning his friends passing. Though he made it seem like they were simply acquaintances, Ray had been a dear friend at one point, and he felt like he was running out of those. Instead of wallowing in his grief, as that is not the type of person Rossi is, he dedicated himself to finishing this case. 

The team gave the profile because there was nothing much they could do at the time being. 

“We’re focusing on the last three cases because they left the freshet e-prints,” Garcia told Rossi. Lila had left a while ago, and they were now video chatting with whichever members of the team were available. 

“Great,” Rossi said, glad that something was being done at least. 

“Not really,” Reid said. “Over 100,000 cases pass through the Long Island court.” 

“Who had eyes on those files?” Rossi asked. 

“Literally hundreds and hundreds of people,” Garcia informed him. 

“Change track, focus on the Enforcer. Mob-related murder trials in the last ten years.” 

“There are 93,” Garcia said after several seconds of typing. 

“Take out any trials that resulted in a conviction. Weed out Mistrials and arraignments.” 

“Nineteen,” Reid said. 

“Were any of those on trial suspected of being hitmen?” Rossi asked. 

“Three-” Reid started, but Garcia interrupted. 

“Woah, woah, woah, this one totally slipped the net. Toni Machachi, his case ended in a mistrial, but check out his supposed victim.” She sent an autopsy photo that matched the M.O. of all the other victims. Everything matched up, and Rossi knew as soon as she said the judge's name that he had something to do with this. Call it instinct, or going with his gut, but Rossi knew it was rarely wrong. His suspicions were confirmed when the man himself showed up. 

“I believe you're looking for me.” The judge said, and Rossi pondered his impeccable timing. 

… 

After an intense interrogation, in which Rossi basically admitted that he had an affair with the judges late wife, they found ut the judge had made two more payments for two more hits. They figured that one of them was Dan Patten, the drunk driver who killed the judge's wife, but he was already dead by the time they found him. They still hadn't found out who the next hit would be, but they were moving the judge into federal custody regardless. 

“Is it true that you are suspected of serial murder!” One of the many reporters that swarmed them as soon as they stepped out of the building shouted. 

“Judge Schuler is assisting a federal investigation,” JJ announced, but that didn't stop the reporters from crowding them and shouting out more questions. JJ and Rossi stood on either side of him, but Morgan had fallen back to take a call from Hotch. 

“I am of the belief that justice has been served!” Was the only response that the Judge gave the crowd. 

“No comment,” JJ repeated as the judge turned to Rossi. 

“I lied.” He said. 

“What?” Rossi asked. Suddenly, a gunshot rang out in the crowd, and JJ was splattered with red. 

“Everybody down! Everybody on the ground now!” Morgan shouted over the chaos, but JJ touched her face and looked at the bloodstained hand. It took her a few seconds to register what had just happened, but she began to look around for the source of the shot as reporters ran in all directions. Rossi and Morgan both had their guns drawn, but he was gone. Rossi looked to see judge Schuler on the ground, blood seeping out of the bullet wound in his chest. He said nothing as the man dropped a golden locket on the sidewalk next to his head and breathed his last breath. Rossi slowly picked up the necklace and opened to reveal a picture of the judge's late wife, Emma. He felt a stab of grief and guilt at letting the still grieving man die thinking that his wife had been unfaithful. 


	29. Chapter 29

The team sat on the plane, going over the case that had been assigned to them earlier that night. 

“So, let me get this straight,” Prentiss said after they had been given the layout of the case. “You're telling us that the government keeps track of civilians who have abilities?” Hotch nodded stoically. 

“Yes. Whether they are offered a position with the government or not, they are put into a database. It is only available to those with the highest clearance.” The team had been given a case where people with abilities were being targeted and slaughtered. It started with a college student and a strange 911 call but had escalated to three bodies, the latest two being a wealthy couple. The only connection that they seemed to have was that they were all in the database. One of the killers had called 911 from within the victim's house only minutes before the murders, claiming that the archangel Raphael would kill the sinners that live there. Said archangel would then take over the conversation before killing the victims and leaving a bible verse at the scene. 

The team had been called out while at a Superbowl party, but now the mood was somber. They figured that the victims were being targeted simply because of what they could do, and it was weighing heavily on all of their minds. 

“This is a bad one, isn't it?” Prentiss voiced everyone's thoughts after a few seconds of quiet.

“Unsubs with a cause are never good,” Morgan agreed. 

“You know, in the 911 call, the second Unsub said ‘Raphael is gonna kill someone’,” JJ pointed out. “Is there a third?” 

“Referring to oneself in the third person is not exactly uncommon for an Unsub,” Reid interjected. “Ted Bundy gave thoroughly detailed accounts of his murders, but he never admitted to actually doing it. He would just say, ‘The Killer’.”

“We have a mission-based killing team in rural Georgia, we need to hit the ground running,” Hotch said. “Reid, you and Rossi go to the latest crime scene, Prentiss and Morgan to the coroner, JJ with me at the station.” 

… 

“Hey, are you okay?” Reid asked, and Rossi startled slightly. He forgot that the kid could feel his worry despite his trademark poker face. That poker face wouldn't do him much good now; he couldn't help but think about Gideon's dream- premonition, whatever. He said that Reid mentioned not being a sinner, so what if something happened? 

“I'm just… tired of people using religion as an excuse to kill,” He bluffed. Reid just nodded. 

“How many times was Mr. Kyle stabbed?” Reid asked, catching the attention of one of the detectives. 

“Stabbed isn't exactly the word I'd use,” The officer said. “It's more like… sliced.” 

… 

“They were long, deep gashes,” The coroner explained to Prentiss and Morgan. “Each victim has practically the same wounds. All throats cut, a vertical gash up one arm from wrist to elbow, and another down one leg from crotch to upper thigh.” 

“Major arteries,” Prentiss noted, and the coroner nodded. 

“And it's damned efficient,” He said. 

“How much knowledge of anatomy would someone need to do this?” Morgan asked, grimacing slightly. 

“Anyone with a basic understanding of the human body knows where the arteries are.” 

“And, do you have any idea which of these was inflicted first?” 

“There was active blood flow from each of the wounds, so I would say that they were all delivered at about the same time. With any of these wounds, the victims would bleed out quickly, almost like an animal at slaughter.” He said, and Prentiss opened her mouth to ask another question when a realization seemed to dawn on him. “No, exactly like an animal at slaughter. Like a deer or a lamb or a cow or something like that, this is the exact process that is used.” The mousy man said. Morgan and Prentiss shared a significant look. 

“Maybe a hunter?” Prentiss suggested. “Or a farmer…” 

“So, basically anyone in rural Georgia,” Morgan said. 

… 

“I just talked to the last couple to leave the Kyles after the Superbowl party,” JJ said as she approached Hotch, who was having a staring contest with the evidence board. “They said that the Kyles didn't have any enemies and were good to their employees. From what I could gather, they were just generally good people.” 

“So why them?” 

“Well, if the trigger is their abilities, the husband had telekinesis and the wife could teleport,” JJ said quietly, lowering her voice to an almost whisper. 

“Yes, but you can't tell that by looking at them. We need to know how they were targeted.” 

“We went through unsolved cases, nothing even close matches the M.O.” A dark-skinned officer interrupted them. 

“Nothing involving knives?” Hotch asked, doubt lacing his tone.

“Well, just common crimes, robberies, bar fights.” 

“Can I take a look at some of those files?” She asked, making sure to bat her lashes. 

“There’s nothing there.” He said, and she resisted the urge to shove past him and take a look at those files with or without his permission. It would not do to go making the locals angry, so instead she tucked some hair behind her ear and smiled at him. 

“Help me out, okay? These guys aren't gonna let me do anything else, and I flew all the way out here, so…” She let herself trail off. He gave her the ‘I-guess-I'll-humor-the-blond’ look and smiled back. 

“I'll show you the file room,” He said. As he turned to show her where it was, JJ turned and gave Hotch a look. He nodded, and she let the officer lead the way. 

… 

Reid's phone went off and he grabbed it. 

“Reid here,” He said by way of greeting. 

“You're at the second crime scene, right?” Garcia asked, he voice sounding slightly strained. 

“Uh, yeah, why?” He asked. 

“Is there a beige settee on the far wall, behind the bed?” She asked, and he frowned. 

“Yes, Garcia why-” 

“Ya know, I'm not gonna ask how you know what a settee is, but I think I might be watching the second murder.” 

“What? How?” He asked. 

“My friend just sent me a viral video, and…” she trailed off. “It, uh, it's the victims being killed, and it's gory.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am, in fact, back on this bullshit. A new story arc! (I guess)


	30. Chapter 30

“So, what, a third Unsub?” Morgan asked upon hearing a voice that wasn't the first Unsub or Raphael. They were watching the video that Garcia sen to them as soon as they all got back to the station. 

“It could be a pre-recorded message, from a sermon or something,” JJ suggested. 

“Punished 7 times,” Prentiss quoted. “Four more victims.” 

“What could the first victim do?” Rossi asked. 

“He could manipulate metal,”  Hotch informed him. They still had no idea how the victims were being targeted. 

“You know what's bothering me about this?” Rossi mused. “Why did none of the victims defend themselves?” 

“What do you mean?” Prentiss asked from where she sat. Reid, who was sitting slightly away from them working on the computer they found at the latest scene, looked up. 

“I mean… Why wouldn't wife teleport away, or the husband do anything with his mind? You can't tell me that the knife at the first scene wasn't metal, so why didn't the kid manipulate it?” Just then the computer pinged, and they all looked over at Reid, but he wasn't paying attention to them. 

“From as far as I can tell, this computer belonged to the Kyles, but Garcia could do a better analysis.” 

“So, it wasn't what recorded the murders?” Morgan frowned. 

“Not necessarily, the camera could be accessed remotely if they activate the camera…” He trailed off, eyes widening. “Detective, does this building have wireless internet?” The Detective nodded. “That camera is on right now.”

… 

The camera being on led the team to the conclusion that the Unsub was activating the computers remotely after planting a trojan horse. They deduced that he was probably someone who worked with other peoples electronics for a living- probably tech support, as Garcia put it. Still, they were no closer to catching the Unsub. 

“So, the officer was right about there not being any open knife cases that fit,” JJ said, and Hotch looked up. 

“I'm sensing a ‘but’ here.” He said, and she nodded. 

“I looked at it a different was, and looked for unsolved home invasion cases instead. Turns out that there was a prowler called in about three months ago outside the Kyles house. The witness walking his dog reported a man in dark clothing going over the back wall and sneaking up the side of the house. By the time the police got there, the prowler was gone.” 

“There was only one?” Hotch asked, and she nodded.

“Was the witness able to describe the man?” Reid asked, taking a bite out of the rice Krispy treat he was eating. 

“If he was, it’s not in this case file.” 

“It's a long shot, but he might be able to give us a description. Why don't you and Reid go out there and see if he remembers anything,” Hotch ordered, and they both nodded. After they left, an officer approached Hotch, a grim look on his face. 

“They’ve just responded to another murder.” 

Reid and JJ drove for hours, and Reid was dozing off by the time they reached the Hankle residence. It was dark out, but the headlights illuminated the old house well enough. 

“Nice place,” JJ muttered as she turned off the car. 

“Yeah, no kidding.” They opened the doors and were hit with a blast of cold air, and… something else. JJ checked her phone and frowned when there was no service. Reid shivered, suddenly wishing he had brought his coat. As they walked closer, the more Reid was sure that he wasn't just imagining the feeling creeping up his spine. He felt… different somehow, like he was missing something. He would have asked JJ if she felt it too if they hadn't reached the door. 

“Wait, wait,” The lead detective said as someone was about to turn off the video of the latest murder. Torn to shreds by dogs was an awful way to go, which only strengthened their resolve to catch this guy. 

“You haven't seen enough?” Morgan asked, feeling slightly sick himself. 

“I've seen those dogs before,” he said. “They attacked a local man, but he knew the owner and didn't want to press charges.” 

“You're sure?” Hotch asked, serious as ever. 

“Yes, they belonged to… Hankel. Tobias Hankel.” Hotch's eyes widened slightly, and his phone rang. 

“Hello?” Hotch asked upon seeing who was calling. 

_ “You need to find Reid!”  _ Gideon all but yelled.  _ “It's going to happen, he’s not answering his phone.”  _

“You saw something a few months ago,” JJ was saying, trying to get the witness to let them into the house. 

“I did?” He asked. 

“Uh, yes, you saw a man in dark clothing trying to break into a house while walking your dog.” All she got was a blank look. “You called the police?” 

“Me?” He asked. 

“You didn't?” She asked, and he shook his head. After a bit more persuading, he basically shut the door in their faces, and they turned and began walking off the porch. 

“That was weird, why would you call the police if you were just gonna say you didn't later?” JJ asked rhetorically, and Reid's eyes widened as if a light bulb just went off. 

“To gauge response time.” He said. 

“What?” 

“If you were going to kill somebody, but you wanted to call the police first,” 

“You would need to know how long it would take them.” Reid took off running before JJ even finished her thought. “Reid!” She called out after him. 

“He’s the Unsub!” He hissed as the witness-turned-suspect took off running, Reid and JJ not far behind. “He’s in the barn,” 

“Are you sure?” She asked as they paused at the door, drawing weapons. He nodded. 

“Call Hotch,” 

“Reid, we are in the middle of nowhere, there’s no service.” 

“Dang it, look, he knows we came here. You stay here, I'll go around back, and we can wait him out!” 

“Reid, wait,” But he was already gone. She heard him hiss something and frowned. “What?” The door to the barn blew open, and she stood, walking stealthily into the dark. The flashlight in her grip didn't do nearly enough to cut through the thick darkness in the barn, but she kept going. She stepped in something wet and looked down. She knew blood when she saw it, but that wasn't the only thing under her boot, and she wanted to throw up. Suddenly, growling could be heard from the dark, and she looked up into the face of three vicious and probably diseased canines. Holding as still as possible, and knowing it wouldn't help her a damn bit, she reached for her fire. It would be easier to hit the dogs with the element that with a bullet, but… it wasn't there. Her mind went into a panic, and the dogs leaped forward and she screamed. 

Reid ran as soon as he heard his partner scream, followed by gunshots. 

“JJ!” He cried but didn't get much further as a fist lashed out, catching him across the face. He felt his gun being taken from his hand and put his hands up while propping himself up on his elbows. He tried to will the gun out of the Unsubs hand, and… nothing happened. Now that he thought about it, he couldn't feel anyone either. That's why he didn't know where Hankel was, or that JJ wast following behind him. Hakel then proceeded to scold himself, and Reid soon realized two things. 1) There was one Unsub with multiple personalities, not a team and 2) None of the victims fought back with their powers because Hankel was a nullifier. He knew he was in trouble even before the shovel met his skull and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who doesn't know, a nullifier is someone with the power to suppress other powers. Anything supernatural around them becomes 'null and void'.


	31. Chapter 31

Morgan walked into the barn, gun drawn and wary of any threat. He knew Prentiss wasn't far, he could see her flashlight beam in his peripheral vision. His own light fell upon three dogs, all on the ground with bullet holes in their bodies. He grimaced and turned quickly turned when he heard a rustling to his right. JJ popped up from behind a barrel of hay

“FBI!” She shouted, pointing her weapon, her hands shaking. Her eyes were wide and glassy, and Morgan could tell she was in shock, he was sure Prentiss could too. After a bit more shouting, JJ seemed to recognize them. No longer on the defensive, she let her gaze fall on the dead dogs. “I had no choice,” She whispered. Prentiss approached her slowly. 

“We know, Jayje.” Prentiss soothed. 

“Th-they just tore her apart. There’s nothing even left.” She informed them, still staring. 

“JJ,” Morgan waited until he had her attention. “Where’s Reid?” He asked. 

“Oh, uh, we split up, he went around back.” Morgan cursed quietly and ran out of the barn. He came back a few minutes later, JJ was sitting in the back of an ambulance. He pulled Prentiss aside slightly. 

“I couldn't find Reid, there are signs that someone was dragged,” Morgan told her lowly, but JJ had an inkling of what they were talking about. 

“You can't find Reid?” 

… 

“You know they have hotels in Georgia?” Garcia asked as she and Gideon got out of the SUV. 

“Think of the house as a witness. If it could talk, what would it tell us?” Hotch asked as he stepped over the threshold. She paused. 

“It’d probably tell us to get the hell out,” She muttered before following her boss. 

… 

Lila paced around her room, phone pressed to her ear and hearing an automated voice message for what must have been the billionth time. She threw it against the wall, harder than she had intended. 

“Screw this,” She growled, grabbing her already packed suitcase. There was no way in heaven, hell, or purgatory she was going to sit passively by after what she had just seen. 

_ She was watching Friends reruns when she felt it. One minute she was sitting on her couch, the next she was standing in a cornfield watching a man talk to himself. Once she was there, she felt herself weakening, like something was fighting her presence. She knew she had to stay once she saw Reid on the ground in front of the man. There was nothing she could do as he stalked forward and hit Reid in the head with a shovel, effectively knocking him out cold. She flickered, whatever was fighting her finally winning out, and her consciousness was back in her body. Despite the warm temperature of her room, she felt cold.  _

She stepped out into the chilly night air, not looking forward to the near-freezing temperatures in Rural Georgia. 

… 

Reid stared blearily at the bare lightbulb swinging above him, wondering why he was sitting in a wooden chair and not laying in his bed. Then it hit him, everything that had happened at the Hankel farm, his confrontation with Tobias himself. He tried to move his hands to his aching head, only to find that he couldn't. He looked down to see his hands cuffed together to the old wooden chair he was sitting on. A putrid smell invaded his nostrils and he gagged. He looked behind him to see Tobias standing there. 

“They're gone.” He said in a monotone voice, and Reid assumed that this wasn't ‘Tobias’. 

“Who?”  He asked, his voice cracking slightly from disuse. He couldn't tell which personality this was without his power, so he would have to wing it. 

“It's just us now,” He said in lieu of answering Reid's question. He figured that this was Raphael, but decided it was better safe than sorry. 

“Who are you?” He asked. 

“I am Raphael,” He said, turning back to whatever he was burning on the woodstove. 

“What's that smell?” Reid scrunched up his nose. 

“Burning fish hearts and livers. It keeps the devil out and evil away.” He answered stoically. Reid reached out to try and gauge the feel of this personality, and… he couldn't. Right, nullifier, and he definitely had a concussion. Reid took a deep breath to keep the panic down. He knew that his greatest asset was his mind, but even that wasn't working at 100% right now, and he couldn't help but think that he was screwed. 


	32. Chapter 32

The team was reading through the journals that they found in the Hankle house when a rather forceful knock cam at the front door. Everyone looked up, and Morgan got up to see who was there, followed closely by Prentiss. He opened the door and was shocked to find a familiar blonde standing there; a blonde who looked very unhappy. 

“Lila?” He asked, taken aback. He was pretty sure that nobody called her- which was slightly insensitive, thinking about it- so why was she here?

“He’s gone, isn't he?” She asked, sounding angry and resigned at the same time. He opened his mouth, then closed it, before nodding. He led her into the house, and they started their Q&A. 

… 

The door behind him banged open, making Reid flinch slightly. He craned his neck to try and get a better look at what was happening, not being in a very good position to see the door. Tobias was moving around being him before he went to the stove to stir the fish guts. Reid cleared his throat. 

“You're not Raphael.” It wasn't a question, not really. This personality stomped, where Raphael marched and Tobias shuffled. The man paused to give him a look. 

“Do I look like Raphael to you, boy?” The man asked in a harsh southern drawl. Reid looked away quickly, not willing to answer that. With his luck, he’d wind up saying something like  _ I mean, kind of  _ in his concussion and nerves induced hysteria. 

“Thank you for burning those.” He tried, but the man glared at him wit more hate than before. 

“Don't try to trick me, you Satan.” He hissed, and Reid felt his heart rate pick up. 

“I-I wouldn't try to trick you,” He managed, panic clawing at his throat as he tried to sound as sincere as possible. 

“Lying is a sin,  _ boy. _ ” He practically spat the last word with venom.

“I'm not a sinner,” Reid responded, maybe too quick, but he saw what this man did to people he thought were sinners. He was not keen to wind up on the wrong end of his knife weather Raphael was the one who normally did the killing or not. His statement only seemed to rile the man up more, and he stalked closer. 

“We’re all sinners,” He growled. 

“I'm not a sinner,” He repeated helplessly. While he knew this would only serve to make the delusional man angrier, he also couldn't afford to take it back now. The man would just take it as confirmation and kill him sooner. 

“Confess your sins, you satan, or I'll make you.” Oh, that didn't sound good. 

“I'm not a satan, I'm just a man,” Reid tried to derail the conversation to a safer topic, but to no avail. He just glared and grabbed Reid's ankle roughly. “Pl-please, I'm not a satan, my name is Spencer Reid,” He began pulling off Reid's shoe and sock as his captive looked at him nervously. He reached over and grabbed a log off of the pile, examining it for a moment before pulling it back. His captive was now staring, wide-eyed, as the realization dawned on his face. 

“No, no wait-” He cut off with a yelp as the wood struck his sole. The action was repeated twice before Reid was sure he felt something in his foot snap, making him scream. Tobias hit his foot once more, drawing another scream, before letting his foot hit the floor. Another grunt escaped him as the bone was jarred on impact, and he let his head fall and shoulders slump. r

“Confess your sins,” Tobias growled, closer to his head than Reid had estimated. Reid just shook his head, and the man left. 

… 

“I was forced out before I got much more than that,” Lila said after she told them about what she saw. Hotch shook his head. 

“I should have known. He's a nullifier.” He muttered and started pacing. Morgan frowned. 

“A what?” He asked. 

“A nullifier is someone who, for all intents and purposes, blocks other powers.” Prentiss supplied. 

“That's why none of them fought back,” Rossi muttered, remembering their earlier conversation about that. 

“So, what does that mean for Reid?” JJ asked quietly. Unsurprisingly, even though all of them knew the answer, none of them said anything.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for mentions of past drug use

JJ leaned on the sink, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She looked the same as she always did and she wondered how this much guilt didn't show on the outside. She closed her eyes for a moment at that thought. Suddenly, growling snarls erupted from behind her. Her eyes flew open, but she didn't move. She looked at the vicious dog that crouched behind her in the mirror her hand moving to her gun as she kept the rest of her body still. As soon as her hand touched her Glock she spun, pointing it at the mutt-- 

“Woah, JJ!” Lila said, panicked. JJ snapped out of it upon hearing her voice and put her gun away as fast as she could manage with slightly shaking hands. 

“Oh, hi Lila. Sorry, you just… startled me.” Lilas expression softened from panic to understanding. 

“No, I'm sorry.” She said sincerely. “Are you okay?” Lila reached out tentatively to grab JJ’s hand and grabbed it when she didn't flinch or pull away. The touch anchored JJ, and she smiled gratefully.

“How do you deal with this?” She asked, partly to avoid the question and partly because she really needed to know. 

“With, what, his abduction?” Lila asked. JJ nodded and Lila let out a slightly hysterical laugh. “I deal with it because if I don't, I'll fall apart. And if I fall apart, I won't be able to help Spencer. He needs me and I refuse to abandon him.” 

“Hey, JJ,” Prentiss said, popping her head in the door. “I'm talking to a witness that may have known Tobias from Anonymous Narcotics tomorrow morning. Why don't you come with me, get out of the house? You could come too, Lila, but you would have to stay in the car.” 

“Yeah, that would be great,” Lila said, and JJ nodded her assent. 

_ “Guys, I think I got something!”  _ Morgan yelled from outside. 

“Stay here,” JJ told Lila and the to agents ran outside to where Hotch and Morgan were standing outside an old cellar. 

“Tobias Hankel, F.B.I,” Morgan yelled. There was no answer, and they descended the stairs. The smell was horrendous, and Hotch grimaced. 

“I think we just found Hankel's father.” 

… 

Reid met a young man by the name of Anthony during his early days in Hollywood. Lila had dragged him to a party and introduced him to her cast members. He was one of the up and coming stars, but one of the nicest people Reid had ever met. They became friends soon after they were introduced, sometimes meeting up for lunch or dinner to catch up. One day Reid invited him to lunch, and he said he was busy. The next day he found out that Anthony had died of an overdose only hours after that conversation, and it hit him hard. He swore to himself that he would never get addicted, that he would  _ never  _ do that to the people that cared about him. 

When Tobias wrapped that belt around his arm and tried to stick that needle into him, he knew he wouldn't come back from that. He wasn't sure how it happened, but the syringe was flying across the room before it could touch him. Tobias stared at where the syringe landed for a moment. 

“I said,  _ I don't want it. _ ” Reid whispered with conviction, and that was the last time he tried to give Reid drugs. 

… 

“Guys!” Garcia called out, the panic lacing her tone. She stared at the screen in front of her in horror as the rest of her team filed in. 

“Oh god,” JJ said quietly, guilt once again gnawing at her stomach, making her sick. 

“He's been beaten,” Prentiss said, noticing the blood staining his face and matting his hair to his head. Morgan felt the need to punch something, but couldn't take his eyes off the screen. Hotch felt his ever professional mask slip for a brief moment before it was back in place. Rossi muttered what sounded a lot like a curse under his breath, and Gideon closed his eyes.  _ I should have known, _ He thought, but didn't dwell. Dwelling on it wouldn't get his agent back. 

“The other heathens are watching,” A shadowy figure said from next to the camera. Reid looked up at the man, then back at the camera before swallowing thickly. “You claim that you want to save people, so choose,” He continued, referencing a conversation that the rest of the team was not privy to. 

“What?” Reid asked quietly. 

“Garcia, trace the feed,” Gideon growled. 

“I-I can't,” She said, voice panicky as her finger flew deftly across the keyboard. 

“What do you mean you can't?” He demanded. 

“He’s rerouting to a new server every six seconds, I mean I  _ can't _ .” 

“Oh my god.” There was a voice behind them, and all but JJ and Morgan spun around to see Lila standing the doorway. She had been outside when Garcia called for them. 

“Honey-” JJ started to pull her out the door, but Lila shook her off. 

“Is this live?” 

“Yes, but you shouldn't-” Morgan was cut off. 

“No, m-maybe I can pinpoint his location. This combined with my connection to him…” She let herself trail off. She stepped forward, and no one stopped her. She stared intently at the screen, as did everyone else. 

“Choose one to die,” He said, and those who hadn't been paying attention assumed this wasn't the first time he said it. Reid swallowed visibly. 

“I won't choose who lives, and who you slaughter like a poacher.” He glanced at the camera for a long moment as he said it. No one noticed, all of them focused on what the man behind the camera would say next. 

“Choose, or I'll kill them all.” He growled. Reid looked conflicted and closed his eyes for a moment. 

“The far left screen, they live.” He says quietly, and he says the address before the camera was turned off and all the screens went black. Gideon was on the phone with the person that had been saved, telling her to turn off her camera.

“I- couldn't… Oh god.” Lila whispered and ran from the room. 

“I'll go check on her,” JJ said, looking pale, and went after her. 

“So we, what, just wait for the next call?” Morgan demanded. 

“There's nothing else we can do,” Hotch said. The call did come, and they were still too late.

… 

Reid couldn't look away from the monitor in front of him as Hankle slaughtered the innocent couple he hadn't chosen to save. He made himself close his eyes, letting himself grieve for two people he had never met. He must have fallen asleep like that because the next thing he heard was Gideon calling his name. His eyes flew open, the prospect of rescue pumping adrenaline into his system. Disappointment coursed through him upon seeing that his mentor was only on the screen in front of him. He barely listened to the speech Gideon gave him, staring blankly as his mind reminded him of how much his chances decreased the longer he stayed in this hellhole. 


	34. Chapter 34

JJ walked into Garcia's makeshift liar. 

“Anything more on Reid?” She asked. 

“No, but he posted the latest murder online. It got over 17,000 hits in the first 20 minutes.” She said, disgusted. 

“Let me see it.” JJ requested. Garcia frowned. 

“You don't want to see it,” JJ scoffed. 

“Don't tell me what I want or don't want.” Garcia didn't even try to hide her shock. 

“JJ… when you stop being affected by the thing you see here you lose pieces of yourself.” 

“Just put it on,” JJ snapped. She  _ needed  _ to watch the video. 

“I won't watch it with you,” Garcia said as she set it up before she left. 

… 

“Tobias would have run and hidden, but Charles would have stood and fought,” Morgan said. 

“So Tobias would be the one who chose where to go,” Prentiss agreed. 

“So, look for anywhere Tobias might have mentioned related to his drug use in the journals,” Rossi said. “Let's dive back into the crazy.” He muttered. 

… 

“I don't understand, why can't we shut it down,” Gideon demanded, and Garcia was reminded of why she hated working with him. 

“Because I can't pinpoint the I.P. address.” She explained for the millionth time. 

“Just remove it once he sends it.” 

“It's the internet, sir. Once something's out there you can never take it back.” 

“History made. You can't undo anything.” He said sarcastically. “Can you please do something, anything, I don't want him thinking he has a pulpit.” 

“I have a list of everyone from the file-sharing chain, I can send out a message that the video is a virus.” She suggested “I'll do it.” she said at his enthusiastic nod. 

… 

“No,” Charles growled. “No!” Reid looked up to see red flashing on most of his screens. “They're trying to silence my message!” He yelled angrily. 

“I can't control what they do, I'm not with them I'm with you.” He said quickly at the accusation in his tone. 

“Really?” He said lowly and pulled up the video of Gideon’s speech for Reid. “Do you think you can defy me?” 

“I don't know what he’s talking about.” 

“You're a liar!” He roared and Reid flinched. Charles turned on the camera. “This ends now. Confess your sins.” Reid shook his head and was backhanded. 

“I haven't done anything.” He sobbed, and Charles punched him. 

“Tobias, help me,” He begged. 

“He can't help you! He’s weak. Confess!” He shouted and hit the genius again. Reid sobbed and Charles pulled his head up by the hair. “Confess your sins.” 

“No.” Reid whimpered. He knew that confessing would get him killed. 

“No?” He pushed the chair back, sending Reid to the ground with it. Reid gasped as the air was knocked out of him, and suddenly Charles was there, wrapping his hands around his neck. Reid, whose hands were strapped uselessly to the chair, flailed and bucked in an attempt to get away. Darkness encroached, and he didn't fight it. 

“Oh God, He’s killing him,” Garcia whispered. Suddenly, he laid still. 

.

Tobias paced outside. 

“He was a sinner,” Charles said. 

“You haven't proven that,” Tobias defended desperately. 

“They're all sinners, in the end,” Raphael interjected. 

.

“You did the right thing,” Gideon told himself a desperate lie. “The video had to be taken down.” 

. 

“God gave him to me for a reason,” Tobias insisted and marched back into the cabin. 

. 

“Jason,” Rossi said, gesturing back to the computer room. They came back just in time to see Reid’s eyes fly open as he coughed. He looked to the side, eyes widening, then to his captor.

“Wait, when was the video of the last murder posted?” Prentiss asked, something having dawned on her. 

“9:23,” Garcia said. 

“A-and when was the time of death?” She was on a roll here.

“The call came in at 9:04, and the killings must have been moments later,” Hotch told her.

“That's only a nineteen-minute difference,” JJ said.

“How long would it take to post the video?” Morgan asked. 

“Two, maybe three minutes.” Garcia 

“Let’s say two. You figure a maximum of 60 mph in a residential area, that means Hankel would have to be in a seventeen-mile radius of the scene.” Morgan calculated. 

“Garcia, can you pull that up on a map?” 

“I want that area locked down like marshal law,” Gideon growled and JJ went to make the call. 

. 

“You came back to life,” Tobias said but it wasn't Tobias. 

“Raphael.” His voice was hoarse. 

“There can be only one of two reasons.” He said, and Reid blinked at him. 

“I was given C.P.R.” Was his response.

“There are no accidents. How many members are on your team?” He wanted to mention that giving someone CPR successfully really couldn't have been an accident, but refrained.

“Seven.” 

“Seven angels who had the seven trumpets prepared themselves to sound. The first sounding followed hail and fire mixed with blood, and they were thrown down to earth.” 

. 

“He thinks it's revelations-- the seven archangels versus the seven angels of death.” Rossi said. 

“Tell me who you serve.” 

“I serve you,” Reid insisted. 

“Then choose one to die.”

“What?” 

“Your team members. Choose one to die.” 

“Kill me.” He said boldly. 

“You said you weren't one of them.” 

“I lied.” He hissed. There was no way he was going to choose. 

“Your team has six other members. Tell me who dies.” 

“No.” Raphael pulled out a revolver and spun the chamber. He pointed it at Reid’s head. 

“Choose, and prove you'll do God's will.” 

“No.” The trigger was pulled and Reid was the only member of the team who didn't flinch.

“Choose.” 

“I won't do it.” another click. 

“Life is a choice.” 

“No.” click. 

“Choose.” 

“I choose… Aaron Hotchner. He’s a classic narcissist. He thinks he better than everyone else on the team. Genesis 23: 4, ‘let him not deceive himself and trust in emptiness, vanity, falseness, and futility, for these shall be his recompense.’” He raised the revolver and a gunshot rang out above Reid's head.


	35. Chapter 35

Reid flinched at the sound of another headstone breaking. He wasn't sure what it was that set Charles off, maybe it was just the whiskey he had drunk, but he was now stomping around the small cabin, breaking things left and right. 

“But you are worse than my bastard son,” He snarled, his speech only slightly slurred. Reid was on edge, but he hadn't expected the man to grab his arm roughly. Reid reacted the first way his sleep-deprived mind suggested; he flung Charles away from him with his mind. In hindsight, he knew he shouldn't have done it. But hindsight is 20/20 and he was tired, dehydrated, and starving. He also didn't think it would work, but being inhibited took his captors powers down more than a few notches. 

“I knew it!” He shouted as he got up, and Reid found that he didn't have enough strength left to perform that little mind trick again. “You are the devil,” Reid shook his head, but Charles went on. “Don't try to deny it now, I've seen what you are.” He stocked in front of Reid, and he shrunk back, flinching when he reached down for his hands. To his great surprise, Charles unlocked to cuffs and pulled him to his hobbled feet. He let out a yelp when he was forced to put pressure on his broken foot, but was pushed out into the freezing night regardless of his injuries and lack of proper clothes. He had no shoes and no coat; it had to be below zero. They walked until both his feet and hands were numb from the cold. When he said he couldn't walk, Charles threatened to drag him. He would rather walk, though he was tempted to accept. It was slow going, and it had to have been an hour before they reached their destination. 

There was nothing special about this specific part of the graveyard, as far as he could tell, but this is where Charles dropped him. A shovel was thrown next to his kneeling form. 

“Dig.” his captor growled lowly, and Reid had the sinking feeling that he knew why. He was digging his own grave. 

The black SUV’s pulled to a stop outside the small shack, the FBI agents pouring out in a rush to look for their missing member. 

“Damnit!” Morgan shouted when he wasn't in the ramshackle cabin. 

“Spread out. He’s here somewhere.” Hotch said. Tobias’s truck was still out there, so he had to be here somewhere. 

Reid leaned heavily on the shovel, sucking in air. 

“I said dig,” Charles repeated the same phrase he did every time Reid stopped, but unlike the other times, Reid shook his head. 

“I can't,” He rasped through chapped lips, “I'm not strong enough.” Charles shoved him out of the way with a growl. 

“You're all weak,” He grumbled venomously. There were sounds of shouting voices in the distance, beams of light cutting through the heavy darkness. Charles turned around, and Reid saw an opportunity. There was his gun,  _ right there _ . He held out his hand and the weapon flew into his shaky fingers like Thor’s hammer. Charles whipped back around, quickly producing a knife from his waistband and holding it up menacingly. “Only one bullet in that gun, boy.” 

“I'll take my chances,” He hissed, and before Charles could take more than a step forward, he pulled the trigger. His aim was true and the bullet lodged itself into Charles chest. He looked down at the bleeding wound in shock before he fell backward. Reid crawled toward the dying man, throwing the knife away from him before getting close. 

A gunshot echoed out into the mostly quiet night. The agents ran toward the sound, most of them sure that they would be finding a body instead of their friend. JJ had tears in her eyes at the thought and ran faster. 

“You did it,” Tobias said, a small smile on his face. “You killed him.” 

“No, no, no, no, no,” Reid murmured, not exactly sure how he felt about this. Tobias had been the one that took him, but he had tried to protect him too. He brought him back to life. He should hate this man. So why did it hurt? 

“Do you think I'll see my mom?” He asked, sounding like a child. Reid felt tears spring to his eyes. Before he could answer, Tobias smiled and stopped breathing. Reid could only stare at his body, even as light was shined on his face and his friends pulled him to his feet. He looked down at the gun still clenched in his hand and wondered if it had been worth it. 

… 

“Hey!” Garcia ambushed him as soon as he stepped off the elevator. It was his first day back at work, and he was more than ready to get back to the job. It had been months, but his foot was healed and after many psych evaluations, he had been approved to get back on duty. She crushed him in a tight hug that he suspected was partly to make sure that he was eating the food that she was sending him. Casseroles, stews, pasta, you name it. Every time he told her that she didn't need to make him food, and every time she told him that she wanted to. She knew that he had a habit of not eating when he was distracted or didn't want to go to the effort to feed himself, so she insisted. He was too polite to refuse. 

“Look whos back,” Morgan said, smirking as he sauntered up to them. “Enjoy your vacation, pretty boy?” 

“Yeah, sure, if you want to call it that.” He said distractedly as he looked around the bullpen in search of his other teammates. “Hey, where is everyone?” He asked. 

“In the conference room. We've got a case,” Reid smiled, glad to get back to the old routine. He could use a new challenge. And what was there to do, but keep moving forward?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter already! Thank you to all who read, left comments, or kudos. I had a great time writing this, and I hope you enjoyed reading it! I do plan to start a series of one-shots in this universe, and I am open to prompts and suggestions. :)

**Author's Note:**

> So, I hope you like it so far. Some of them have the jobs they had before the BAU and others have jobs that I could see them doing. The only member of the team who ever worked for the BAU before was Rossi, but he is still in retirement. The idea of Prentiss being bi wasn't really planned and came when I found out that the writers originally wrote her out as a lesbian. Anyways, just some rambling on my part. Please R&R!


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